Posted By jayna on September 25, 2013
This morning, we all drug ourselves out of bed – some more chipper than others – and hit the ground running. School drop offs and gymnastics and picking up snacks for soccer and tossing in laundry and diaper change, diaper change, diaper change. Then there was the trip to this grocery store and that pet store, a singing lesson and dinner on the fly and then off to soccer practice. Wednesdays are THE day of the week, the one with no space left on the calendar, and surviving them is worthy of a collapse in bed at an unreasonably early hour. The house always looks like a tornado went through and dinner is far from gourmet. After this Wednesday, this one laced with “I don’t feel good”s and “I’m cranky”s, it seems like last weekend was a million years ago.
But no. Just four days ago I was sprawled across my very own hotel bed, watching whatever terrible cable show I felt like watching, and eating dessert without having to share.
And it was glorious.
I couldn’t have asked for a better get-away than this early birthday present. From the minute I pulled out of our neighborhood, hooked up Pandora to the car speakers, and sped away, it was awesome. I found myself in the company of some fabulous people I love, who showed me a fabulous time in a city that ranks near the top of my Could Totally Live There list. I got to hug someone, live and in person, that I’ve admired for years. I don’t even know how long of a ridiculously hot shower I took, or how many minutes I spent literally staring at the ceiling in complete silence, but I do know that it was so needed. A solid 48 hours of good food, shopping at whatever meandering pace I felt like, more good food, a hockey game, and sleep sleep sleeeeeeeep. A good chunk of those hours were spent in the car, but the fact that I didn’t have to share a single one of my swedish fish to a nosy little person in the backseat? Nor change a single song that came on for questionable lyrics? That made all the driving worth it.
Also, I’m happy to report that I can still remember nearly all of the early 2000s rap songs I learned in college. Try me. It’s amazing.
Perhaps though, I wonder, wouldn’t that space in my brain be better served with, oh I don’t know, a little room for grocery lists or school form deadlines or something? Maybe? Possibly?
Either way, all that singing at the top of my lungs in the car and deep breathing in a quiet hotel room, it was good. Good for my soul, good for my mind, good for my children who were thrilled to have me back and maybe, just maybe, missed me a little bit. And now I can start dreaming about the next little get-away . . . in another six years or so . . .