A Day or Two

It doesn't make me giddy to be away. But when it's good it's good and I don't begrudge being away or travel half as much as it SEEMS I do. Basically I'm fine with traveling as long as I am not worried about my kids. So right, it's fine. More than fine when it's times like this last weekend. It's good even, but not what gets me going before hand, does that make sense? As in, I'm very happy to be there, but I'm not here pining for any"there".

Anyway, since I don't have that layer of "I'm just excited to be away" I think that I find myself with a much more focused restoration than the average joe on these little retreats we so luckily get. The self that existed before I happily signed up for the life of my dreams (i.e. marriage and children) tends to show up around day 2.

I don't often realize that I'm not driving around in my Oprah coined "authentic self" all day everyday, but coming back from this weekend I realized one of the hints that should tell me I'm straying. Getting so anxious as I order from McDonalds that I have to put my head down on the window ledge. This is not the real me. This is me trying to be a good mom. And, if you don't realize this all on your own - "good moms" in today's society do not feed their kids McDonalds - no, not even the healthier options at McDonalds. So even though I love my kids, even though I have a mom-in-law providing me meals that just need to be thrown in the oven (it's dethawing them I tend to get stuck on) and a mom who's cooking influence should have soaked into my bones by now (even if it got lost in the DNA), I do depend on McDonalds- especially for Finn who doesn't seem to have gotten the memo that a hungry kid will eventually eat. Ha. Not if muffins aren't present he won't. And since he no longer has the bottle (reference: things I dread), I now dread that he is starving unless I provide him fries or muffins.

See how hard it is to stay focused on being just a person, not a person responsible for the care and feeding of other persons?

So for the briefest of periods - somewhere after day 1 and before scrounging around for a dinner for the kids the day I get back - I stop thinking about feeding and caring for other people. Except of course for the wondering if gluten-intolerant Maggie will be served weird pound cake like gluten free bread sandwiches or have to pick mushrooms off pizza for her sustenance. When I came back and needed to feed Finn quickly - I drove thru McDonalds. And do you know, I didn't worry about it... until I realized I wasn't worrying about it.

Then I thought about this whole cycle and I blogged about it. The end.