Okay… well, I got back four days ago but we’ve had company and commitments and these extra 5 (okay, maybe 10) pounds I put on in Ireland are slowing me down.
Needless to say, it was fantastic. Great food, great beer, great people and a beautiful country, it was enough like home to feel familiar but new enough to encourage exploration.
I did not take my computer. Gee, why you may ask? I may be crazy but I am not crazy enough to saddle myself with a laptop on my second honeymoon. Besides, it conveniently had a virus and had to be left with my very handy neighbour for repair.
I did, however, blog while I was away. I just did it the old fashioned way… in a journal. I’ve decided I’ll post them every few days over the next week or so. Don’t worry, this isn’t a travel blog, though I feel inspired for a whole host of travel related stories, it’s more of my regular naval gazing, just on the other side of the big pond.
I will apologize in advance for the first one… it was written before actually dropping off the kids and tasting freedom.
It was two days before we actually left that the anxiety set in.
I had no fear for the boys. They would be well cared for by my generous, some would say crazy (she has four kids of her own and was voluntarily taking my two), sister. They would probably have more fun than if they were at home with us. It was me that was having trouble cutting the strings.
The idea of being an ocean away is suddenly very difficult. Never mind the fact that said sister is fighting the flu less than 24 hours before being saddled with my children, I’m having separation anxiety. It is totally illogical. I’m going on an incredible vacation, which includes a night in a real castle. I’m getting a week of quality time where I don’t have to wipe noses or bums, where I can sit down to a meal and eat it while it is still warm. I’m going to spend a week of desperately needed alone time with my partner is life and in parenting.
The dudes will be fine 5 minutes after we leave – maybe even before that. I will drink Irish beer, listen to Irish music and walk the Irish coast without guilt… at least not much. We will return refreshed and better prepared to face what lies ahead together. Never the less, I will miss the Dudes desperately.
It is the great paradox of motherhood. Most of the time it is overwhelming: too much noise, too many demands, too things to do. Then, if we do get the rare getaway, we’re suddenly left with a void: not enough noise, not enough activity and, most especially, not enough love.
I am looking forward to this holiday. My heart is lighter as I envision a week of purely adult time, but that lightness comes because of the hole in my heart that will only be filled when I am home with the Dudes.