It was months in the planning, and the effort was nothing
short of organizing a peace summit.
Of course the chance to leave town for even a day or two without taking
the children along is a crazy notion due to the excessive planning,
orchestrating of schedules and inconvenience to others who bear the
responsibility for my children in my absence. But this time would be even crazier since we were talking
about a full week away. Seven days
hanging out in California sounded so delightful even I didn’t balk at the work
involved to pull it off. At least
not while I was booking my travel.
It
wasn’t until reality set in a few days later and the true advance work got
underway. My parents would be
summoned to care for the children, neighbors and friends would be called upon
to help with carting them from event to event. The house would need to be in order, laundry done, guest
quarters prepared, insurance information would be disseminated to all the
appropriate parties, schedules printed out with instructions for daily routines
like allergy pills and bed time reading.
Of course as the days grew closer, the incredible stress of getting it
all done grew ever heavier leading to lists being made to remember the last
list. I found myself at times
standing in random rooms in a complete stupor so overwhelmed by the amount of
tasks to be finished that it rendered me unable to decide where to start. One day I found myself putting fresh
broccoli away in the pantry.
What
would I forget to pack? What if I forgot something important for the kids? What if I missed my connecting flight
in Chicago? When the day before my
departure arrived I was thrilled. I couldn’t wait to escape all this madness I
had created. And the day passed
like a flash before my eyes. I was
packing in a frenzy, since of course I left my own planning and preparation
until the last minute. In an
instant I was saying good night to two tearful boys and suddenly everything
changed. Suddenly all I could
think of is, “What if something goes wrong?” What if one of them is sick or gets hurt? What if something happens to me? What if this was all a huge mistake?
Maybe I should never have decided to go?
Even taking off the in the early hours of the following morning I still
had apprehension about my decision.
It
wasn’t’ until my body was adjusting to California time that I finally came to
my senses. I began to realize how
much we parents needed time away, time to ourselves, time to be two instead of
four, time to invest in us. And
each day I was separated from those two parts of me back home was a day I
learned more about the boys they have become and the mom I have become. We talked and texted and laughed and
missed each other and we all grew in our own ways to appreciate each other a
little more, to pine away for hugs and old familiar routine that we sometimes
take for granted. In the end, I
couldn’t wait to see them, at the foot of the stairs at the airport. I swear they had grown, and not just in
inches. We all did. I am so happy that all the planning,
daunting execution, and exhausting travel was worth it for all of us. Now I just have to decide where to go
next!
