Or, more accurately, two women.
There’s southern mama who is up and at ’em, meeting the day with a few activities in her back pocket (probably next to the grocery list and an extra pack of goldfish), who has a daily schedule to keep to between meal times and nap times and bath times, and who is lucky to remember to finish a thought not to mention a sentence when trying to chat with the hubby during dinner.
Then, there is me, the woman who existed before mama. After a weekend of lazy mornings, spontaneous decisions and incredible meals, I’m happy to say she’s still inside the mama above.
Leaving the peanut was easier than I thought it would be. Okay, the act of leaving was not easy, I did cry when we left the house when he was more interested in helping grandma make the coffee than giving me a squeeze, but being away from him wasn’t nearly as painful as I feared.
Our hotel was fabulous, in a great location. The room looked like this:
Well, more accurately, our second room looked like that. Our original room looked like this:
The weekend was full of spur of the moment decisions, punctuated by evening dinner reservations at some of our favorite spots. We hit up the National Portrait Gallery across the street from our hotel one afternoon, spent practically all of Saturday at the Newseum (which was totally awesome and I would highly recommend going…although maybe not with young kids), walked through Lafayette Square after dinner one night, had a lovely Sunday brunch, went to a movie, had tapas and sangria, read the paper in bed, had conversation after conversation with the hubby about where we have been, where we are, where we’re going, joked about nothing at all. It seemed strange that when we have a date night, we have a hard time not talking about the peanut, but somehow we spent most of the weekend finding plenty of other things to talk about.
Grandma and grandpa survived the weekend (thanks again). Peanut was apparently an angel most of the time. Apparently that went out the window as soon as we dropped grandma and grandpa off at the airport this morning. He’s been cranky and whiny all morning. Of course that might have something to do with the fact that he didn’t nap yesterday after the hubby and I returned.
The flowers (thanks honey), champagne (thanks M&J), cocktails (thanks Ten Penh) and ability to sleep past 7:15 were just what the doctor ordered. And although I’m buried in laundry and the mundane daily tasks of my mama life, it’s comforting to know that the me I thought I lost is still alive and well.
Now that I know it’s possible, I better start planning trips to visit her a bit more often. She’s a pretty good time. And she had some sassy shoes, if I do say so myself.