Sorry about the radio silence, but I have an excuse, sort of….I went to a wedding, by myself, in Cancun and just got back on Sunday night. I say “sort of” an excuse because I left Friday morning and I was back on Sunday night. So I wasn’t gone THAT long, certainly not long enough to make up for the fact that it’s been over a week since I’ve written. Lammo, I know, sorry….
Yeah, so how about that, the SAHM got to jet off to Mexico by herself for a few days. On my way down, I decided to come up with a “Bucket List” of sorts. In case you’re not familiar with this term, it means a list of things you want to do (I think typically you create one before you die, but in my case it was before getting back to mommy-hood). Here’s what I came up with:
- Sleep in until 10am both mornings
- Go to the gym everyday
- Have a drink served to me on the beach
- Remember what it’s like just to be me
Pretty easy, actually, but I unfortunately only achieved two out of four. I “slept in” until 7:30am both mornings, and I turned down my one chance at a drink on the beach when the waitress came around at 9am. I should have said “Yes” when I had the chance. But I did go to the gym every day (which was wonderful by the way), I made new friends, and remembered how much I love travelling by myself.
On the way down, I got an entire exit row all to myself on the airplane BUT there was a screaming three-year-old right behind me. And as my friend reminded me, “when you’re a parent you feel bad for the parents with the screaming kid, when you’re not a parent, you just want to punch the kid until you knock him out cold.” I really wanted to bring that kid into the row with me, read him some books, make him a paper airplane, or sing him a few songs. But he wasn’t my kid, and most likely a complete stranger would not do any good. Pretty sure if August was screaming on an airplane (which of course NEVER happens, because he’s perfect! God, yuck, did I just say that? Sorry….) and some Mom came up to August and tried to take him away from us into another row to read him a book, unless it was about the coolest trains in the world, I don’t think he’d be very pleased with us. Although, I’m sure we would be tempted to take her up on her generous offer.
Instead, I occasionally gave them some “I’m so sorry” looks, and at the end of the flight I said, “Well, at least you know the way back won’t be worse than this.” They smiled. But my friend is right, it’s amazing how much more patience I have for someone else’s screaming kid now that I know how hard airplanes are. I managed quite easily to enjoy my trip by merely turning up the volume while I watched “We bought a Zoo.” Which of course I cried over, because, well, I can’t seem to ride an airplane and watch a movie without crying. I turn to a complete ball of mush on airplanes. I blame John Denver - if he had never written “Leaving on a jet plane” I don’t think I’d be such a mess. But I love that song, sing it every time I’m about to take a flight, and I think it sets the mood.
“All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go…”