Not
long after my class finished earlier this month I found myself in my typical
end-of-year funk, which seems to arrive at the exact moment I realise that my
break from study will involve almost no leisurely-lying-in-bed-reading-novels-and-forgetting-to-eat,
and instead lots and lots and lots of child-wrangling. I love my children
infinity (as Mo and Hazel like to say), but I miss the days when sleeping in
was a thing and I didn’t have to spend quite so much time, guilt, and
brainpower figuring out how best to keep two little people healthy, happy, and
engaged.
It
was around this funky time that Moses complained to Alan and me: “It’s not fair
that Mummy gets to go away for
sleepovers, and Daddy gets to go away
for sleepovers, but we don’t get to
go away for sleepovers.” Alan was on the phone to his parents that very
evening, and the plan we’d been vaguely daydreaming about for months finally
fell into place: Mo and Hazel would spend a few nights with Nanna and Poppa
after Christmas, and Alan and I would spend a few nights somewhere else,
relishing our freedom, reacquainting ourselves with uninterrupted sleep (no one slept well while we were in Queensland),
and watching episodes of Parks and
Recreation whenever we felt like it. (Although we’d leaned heavily on the
“You guys are going to have so much fun
with your grandparents!” line, the night before we left Moses said to us, “You
won’t have to worry about Hazel or me doing anything dangerous, or about
getting us food! You’ll be able to do anything
you want!” Obviously our efforts to mute our dizzying excitement had been
unsuccessful, arousing Mo’s suspicion that possibly he and Hazel
weren’t the only two benefitting from the arrangement…)
It
was the first time in the five-and-a-bit years that we’ve been parents that
Alan and I had spent more than a night away from our children together; as we
ate dinner on the first evening we marvelled over the fact that we didn’t have
to rush home to pay a babysitter! We could get home any time we wanted! (We got
home at 8:30pm.) We stayed in a gorgeous mud-brick cottage in a valley near
Blackheath, and filled our days fauna-spotting, bath-taking, cheese-eating, DVD-watching,
lovemaking, book-reading, talk-having, wine-sipping, blog-writing, bushwalking,
podcast-listening, in-colouring, and sleeping. It was exactly as glorious as it
sounds.
Even
more glorious was the happy reunion with my babies, and the precious, complete feeling that
came with having them close again.
I reckon it’ll last until... Monday? Maybe? Then I’d like to do the break thing again.
Love this
ReplyDeleteThat looks like a beautiful place...and I hope you can do the break thing again this year sometime!
ReplyDelete