For about 360 days of the year, I am a quinoa-eating, hot yoga loving, green tea sipping, play-date organizing, kid chauffeuring, nutrition packing momma.
But once or twice a year, my girlfriends and I hit the road, leaving the hubbies and the kids to fend for themselves for 48-72 hours. It’s glorious – the freedom to eat olives, cheese and wine for dinner, and being able to sleep uninterrupted, woken neither by wandering hands in the middle of the night nor by kids who can’t reach the juice in the refrigerator in the morning.
But this freedom comes with a price. It can take weeks to plan adequate coverage so things will continue to run smoothly in our absence. While our husbands can jet off for work or boys weekends without underwear or a toothbrush, we moms must carefully write down the soccer/hockey/birthday party schedules/addresses/phone numbers for the weekend’s activities lest a child gets forgotten somewhere. We shop for, make and freeze multiple meals, and if we’re feeling generous, we’ll even line up a babysitter or grandparents to watch the kids just in case poor Daddy needs a break from parenting that whole time.
The minute I pull the hockey bags and juice-stained car seats out of my car, sending cheerios and half-eaten chicken nuggets flying through the air, my heart starts beating faster. Start throwing in skis, boots, and an overnight bag crammed with pretty tops and exciting books and I’m grinning like the Cheshire Cat! Pick up a couple of girlfriends, a couple boxes of white wine and nibbles and I feel like I’m 24 again – I’ve just gotten off work and it’s payday!
Watch out, cougars on the loose! Juicy details in my next post (as I am still catching up on my sleep, or lack thereof – thanks to Red Bull!)
Till we meet again,