Last Thursday I did the unthinkable and kissed my babies goodbye. I held them just a little longer than necessary Thursday night, smothering them in kisses and briefly imagined my life without those sweet warm bodies wrapped and relaxed against my arms. My heart is so full of love for them and they are written forever on my soul.
Why the melodramatics? I was about to experience my first...a weekend away from my kids with a gal pal.
Falling into bed that night I jokingly asked my hubbers what he would do if I died. Without hestitation (Halt for a sec! No hesitation hubs?) he replied, "Buy a new car with the insurance money." Very logical. How often had he thought this one through?
"Don't you want to maybe cry first? Maybe lovingly and tortorously pick out a casket as you sob? Mourn me? What if I come back to haunt you? No, take that back, I'll come and haunt you if you don't cry before buying a car."
He laughed when I threatened to use my life insurance money to go get a tummy tuck before picking out his casket.
It was happening. No, I wasn't dying, but I was off on an adventure to go spend the weekend in D.C. with ond of my dearest, long-time friends, Sarah. I felt so much anxiety leaving my babies, but I knew a weekend off would only serve to renew my love for them, and remind myself that I am more than the sum called motherhood. Heck, I may even have something to talk to Keith afterwards that didn't involve the nuances of childhood and running a household.
Sarah confessed that she experienced some mild anxiety herself about the weekend. She was worried I would spend the whole trip moaning about my babies, calling them constantly and spending all my free time buying them trinkets.
Um, no. I went to the mall. By myself. I had to fly to another state to do this I guess, it was the only logical thing to do with a free day to myself. And I spent 5 hours shopping. I bought a book and I read it cover to cover. For lunch I ate cookies and didn't feel guilty. I bought me some cute jeans. I stood over each rack at 4 different department stores, contemplating deep thoughts such as size, fits, styles, age-appropriateness, flare, bootcute, mid-cut, etc.
I did not ONCE apologize for any behavior I might be responsible for.
Except for that accidental burp outside Cheesecake factory.
Not once did I have to breathe deeply to get through the epic shopping event.
But was I superiously happy? No. I missed my little ones, and I missed my husband. I even missed feeling like I had perhaps a deeper purpose than finding a great pair of jeans.
But it was nice to miss. To contemplate the fact that my life is full of happy chaos and that I love it. I love it. I really do. I love being a mommy and this stage of life.
I did not cry, I did not moan, and I had a lot of fun when Sarah came in that night. We laughed, we went to a museum and enjoyed it for 6 hours, and we stayed out until midnight at national monuments. It was awesome. We stayed up till the wee hours of the night chatting and then slept in. I felt renewed leaving my dear friend, and lifted from the joy that it brought me to feel like a piece of the Cherie I had long ago said goodbye to still existed.
We even spoke about children, but I kept it at a minimum. Sarah expressed to me that she did not know any of her friends, aside from me, that was actually happy being a stay-at-home mom. I'd lie if I said I loved it every moment, but in general I love my life. My kids crack me up, and they keep me on my toes. I couldn't imagine being as fulfilled in my life without their presence.
Will I do it again? Yes.
Will I miss my kids? Yep.
And the question to which you really want to know the answer: Did I find THAT pair of jeans? Oh yes.
Here they are!
