Before I start, let’s just take a big collective deep breath in……..and out. And another…..Here’s a little sunset photo I took this week to help.
That’s better, isn’t it? After being sick for three weeks, and whining about it plenty on here, my husband and I did something we hadn’t done in over a year and a half. We got a hotel room, and had over 24 hours to ourselves. It was heaven. It was perfection. It was a giant deep breath in…and out.
We had cocktails at sunset, with no mini me screaming for her goldfish and blueberries, asking to get down and run around like a drunk person, or demanding a bite of anything on my fork. We just…..talked. And sipped. And ate unpasteurized meats and cheeses. AND LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT.
You see, it was my first night away from Claire…ever. Sean has had plenty (collectively he’s spent months away from her because of his job), but for me, I’d never spent more than 8 hours away from my baby. And everyone asked me how I felt, and how it went, as if they were waiting for me to say that I had a nervous breakdown and demanded we drive home immediately. Boy were they wrong! I loved every second of it! I had cocktails, wine, yummy food I didn’t have to share, a bubblebath, we went shopping and took our sweet time in whatever store we wanted. It was magic!
Don’t get me wrong, we talked about Claire plenty, and I felt myself wishing I could check in on her at night, but after the last four months of moving hell, holidays away from home hell, being sick hell, I was SO READY for a break from reality. It couldn’t have come at a better time. And did I ever relish my little sanity break. A lingering cold couldn’t keep me down; I threw all my cold aid paraphernalia in a bag and hopped in the car. And the best part? By the time we got home the next afternoon, I was so excited to see my little nugget and felt more energized than I had in a very long time. So, please forgive any griping I may have done about my mother-in-law coming to visit.
When I think about my friends in my hometown who still live there, along with their parents, and realize they can just drop their kids off with grandma on any random Saturday or date night, I turn green with envy. Sure, we can hire a babysitter, but that obviously gets expensive. And not practical for an overnight. So now that we had this little retreat, I’m realizing that they will only come around every six months or so. Next time I’m thinking several days away might be in order…. in Vegas? A girl can dream.
I’m learning a valuable lesson in mommy guilt. From day to day, I feel guilty if I don’t play with Claire enough if I have things to do, or that we didn’t read enough books together, or that I didn’t take her to any activities to engage her, etc. I feel guilty that she doesn’t have many opportunities to socialize with other babies yet. And when I put her down to bed, I think about how good of a sleeper she is and feel guilt about the cry it out method we used, which was hard (as they all are) but has produced the best sleeper a parent could ask for. I reflect on the day and wonder what I could have done more of, or better, or different. It’s exhausting. But I’m getting tired of feeling that way, and so when this opportunity to get away came around, I told myself I wasn’t allowed to feel guilty about it. She was happy at home with grandma, and Sean and I needed some time alone together. And for once, I listened to my inner self and I enjoyed every damn second. And guess what happened? Claire was happy as a clam for her Nana and was happy to see us when we got home, but was completely unfazed from us being away from her.
Lesson learned: get out more. For your own sanity!