Love ya, but I just don’t want to see any of you for a day.
This weekend I’ve booked a night away at a hotel. Husband-free. Child-free. 20 glorious hours without anything to do other than sleep, read, watch movies and eat room service.
Can’t.Freaking.Wait.
Will I miss them? Maybe a bit. But this is all about ME, and finding a bit of my “self” again.
I’ve had a grand total of four nights away from my family in the past four years. That’s a lot more than some people, but after an intense twin pregnancy and a hectic nine months of Threenager and raising babies, I need a family timeout.
When my husband told me he would be heading to Singapore for two, six-day work trips in July and August, I knew the time had come. I needed to start the chaos with some calm… and a steaming hotel room bath, red wine, book and an enormous bed to myself is just the way to do it.
I have to laugh though. The husband keeps telling me that his work trips won’t be relaxing, or fun (no, honey). That he will have to fly economy because the work budget won’t allow business any more (oh the humanity!) But anything that involves a plane trip to another country, a cushy hotel, no kids in your ear and the option to eat/sleep and use the bathroom at will sounds like a bloody amazing holiday to me.
He’s never been solo with all three kids longer than four hours. Each of those times my outing (a haircut) has been timed for while the girls are napping. Of course they ALWAYS do their full two-hour nap for Daddy, so he only really has to deal with Toby. Too easy! So part of me is hoping he gets the intensive three kids experience – the grizzly, clingy non-sleeping babies; the whinging Threenager who suddenly needs an escort for every toilet trip and someone to dry his hands; the joy of cooking two dinners and having neither of them eaten. Just so he can understand why I don’t answer sometimes when he asks how my day was. I can’t. After 14 hours attending to every need of our three tiny dictators I’m too drained to do anything but close my eyes and meditate on my eyelids for a while.
I’m not expecting any chores to get done. I’m not expecting the house to be tidy when I get home. But I am hoping for some empathy, and the understanding that this break I’m taking from my life to raise our children isn’t long days visiting cafes and taking leisurely walks around the neighbourhood.
It’s bloody hard work this full-time parenting shit, and I have so much respect for women who choose to continue it over returning to work. For me, work gives me a mini-timeout to reset and recharge enough to be a happier, more balanced wife and mother.
Now if you need me, I’ll be planning which PJ’s and book to pack for my night away.
How Life Has Changed 