Sean and I finally went away for the weekend for the first time in almost five years. Sean’s parents stayed with the boys, and we went to a marvelous town in the south of the Netherlands.
We had such a good time, I didn’t particularly want to come back. It was unbelievably refreshing to spend time together with my husband. Have each other’s undivided attention. Use the toilet when you want to and not when you don’t have time to pee and have to wait for hours until you are reminded of the forgotten almost exploding bladder by the sudden sharp pain in your belly.
And then just take your time on that toilet, sweetly relaxing your body and not having to involuntarily stop the natural process of what you are doing and run to the rescue of a screaming desperate abandoned for two minutes child somewhere in the dangerous living room.
And slowly have breakfast, sipping on our coffee and chewing the delicious food that someone else made for us. And take our time. Enjoying the uninterrupted bliss of a peaceful winter morning. Every. Second. In peace and quiet. No sweet high-pitched voice yelling something into my face. Quiet and peace.
I felt bad for not feeling bad for not missing my children like crazy. I did miss them, but it was more like “I – could- enjoy-this-time-another-two or three days- alone-with-Sean-thank-you-very-much-miss-them.”
So, we decided to get away on a regular basis. Now that I have tasted the freedom, there is no turning back.
I still think I am a great mom. I am still madly in love with my little men. I am just rested and hence a bit more satisfied with the life I chose to have – the beautiful hard fun amazing tiring full of wonder intense happiness and heavenly joy life of a mother.
