Crazy/Hip Weekend Alone

This is a writing collaboration of the Crazy/Hip Blogger Mamas website. It is my first try. I am to finish the following sentence. “If I had an entire weekend to myself I would…”

I thought a lot about this. I had a knee-jerk response of “go to a spa” but then I started thinking no, really. What would I do? And in what universe would I have the weekend to myself? I have to address the question realistically. It would probably go like this:

I have had a terrible week with a sick Kyle who did not stop whining unless he was asleep or flinging milk across the kitchen. The garbage disposal backed up again and the dog puked on my expensive Crate and Barrel carpet, the one I stalked for a year until it went on sale right after I lost my job but I bought it anyway. The house is a disaster and there is sand underfoot everywhere from Kyle’s new sandbox that he doesn’t like to play in, just around, taking the sand in little bits in a pail and dumping on to his own lap. By Friday, I am a hot mess. I beg Stewart to let me take off for the weekend so I can get some precious sleep. I’m not talking about a nap. I’m talking the draw the blinds and wear a sleep mask and earplugs kind of sleep. Where you sleep until 10am and wake up and think “oh my God, what am I late for?”

Stewart sees the welty, red-faced me who has suddenly grown 4,000 new gray hairs and has a headache above her left eye that won’t go away. So he relents, pledging to “have a great time with the kid.”

Luckily, this weekend Auntie Lisa is out of town and I have the key to her house so I call her and ask her if I can pretend to be her for the weekend. She is more than happy to have me stay at her house. I hastily shove some clothes and deodorant and oh yeah, my toothbrush, into a bag, and hop in the car. Then I get out and go back into the house to get my purse and the car keys. Back in the car, hooray, I am free!

I pad barefoot around Lisa’s house not worried about stepping on Little People and spraining my ankle. I sip a glass of red wine from a bottle I found in her bar. I flip through the channels on TV and doze off to an old John Hughes movie that I can quote 45% of. I snuggle down in the guest room and sleep the sleep of…well who really sleeps well? NOT babies, as we all know. My friend Jen, I guess. She can sleep until one in the afternoon, no sweat. I envy her.

All day Saturday I live a life of uncluttered ease. I take a leisurely walk to Trader Joe’s, stopping for a latte on the way back. I read, I take myself to a movie. I take a bath in the middle of the day. I sit in the courtyard reading the paper. I get a pedicure. I take a nap. I do whatever I want.

Then I call home, you know, just to check in. My dear husband says all is well. But I miss Kyle, and I am jealous that they are having fun without me. I feel better already, so I head on home.

But first…I am so close to The Grove, a fabulous (but always crowded) shopping experience near Beverly Hills. Mama loooovvvvees the Grove – it reminds her of her childless carefree days. Four hours and 3 new outfits and some hand cream later, I arrive home, exhausted but happy. I didn’t make it a whole weekend alone, but it was enough to recharge my batteries.

I couldn’t even get through the whole weekend in my fantasy, so I doubt that it will happen in real life. But it’s nice to dream.