Every Christmas, birthday, Mother’s Day or anniversary, I answer the hubby’s gift inquiries with the same stock answer: “I want a vacation!”
Friday night at our most fantabulous date night ever (seriously, Atlanta, if you want a fantastic date night, check out the chef’s table at the Four Season’s Park 75. Eight courses, wine pairings, chatting with the chefs, insanely great service. Call now and make your reservations. You can thank me later.), the hubby presented me with an early birthday gift. He had organized a dual trip – a trip for me and a trip for us.
Saturday morning, I will board a plane for Raleigh and spend the day and night with my sister helping her register for baby and planning a shower. Sunday, the hubby will bring the kids up where we’ll deposit our children into Grandma and Grandpa’s care and head to DC until Thursday.
I know, I know. DC in January. But DC was our grown-up home. We spent the early years of our marriage there, disposing of our income at nice restaurants, spending afternoons in front of Monets, wandering through shops with steaming cups of coffee. The fact that the hubby knew to give me that is almost more impressive than the coordinating of the child care and girl time with my sister.
Yet somehow, here I sit trying to make lists of things to pack for me and the kids, terrified. We have left Peanut before, but haven’t left both boys. I’m not even sure if that’s what I’m nervous about. I know it’s important for the hubby and I to have time together. I know it’s important for the boys to have time without us. I will be able to sleep in, see friends, visit my Monet, enjoy some of our favorite restaurants, relax.
Motherhood is so pervasive. Once you have children, you are forever a mother. There is no going back. And that is a wonderful, wonderful thing. The only difficulty is when faced with time to spend with the non-mom-me, I’m worried I won’t know who she is anymore. Is she still fun? Can she still participate in an intelligent conversation? Can she still pack a pair of heels and spend a day in them? Can she eat in a leisurely manner instead of throwing down her lunch before someone melts down?
Maybe I should be more excited than nervous. After all, meeting new people is one of most interesting parts of travel – I just never thought I would be one of them.