7 Things Vacation Taught Me

15 November 2013 by 6 Comments

Some of you my have noticed that I’ve been scarce around these internet parts in the past couple of weeks.  The cause?  My husband and I took a much needed vacation away.  Far away.  As in, all the way to another country.

Without the kids.

Yeah, you read that right.  I don’t type that out to spark jealousy, but out of pure awe and gratitude.

Awe that it took over seven years for Jon and I to take a vacation by ourselves.  Awe and gratitude that everything aligned to have grandparents available to watch our kids for six days while Jon and I remembered what it was like to eat outside the feeding schedule of a four year-old.  Awe and gratitude that nothing catastrophic happened while we were gone.

It was great to reconnect with my husband, to be able to sleep in a little and eat meals without corralling small people to eat just one more bite. The weather cooperated for the most part, I imbibed way too many fruity adult cocktails, and am now trying to assimilate to life back at home.

I expected to remember that I liked sleeping, that I liked sunshine, and that I need to be able to miss my kids every once in a while.  But there were some other things I learned on this trip, too.

vacation

Things like…

I don’t look that bad in a bathing suit.

Sure, I don’t look as great as I’d like (especially around all the firm, athletic 27 year olds that were at the resort), or as I used to ten or even two years ago.  But I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror when I ran to the bathroom without covering up the first day and realized, it’s not the horrible sight I have played out in my mind.

 

I can’t hold my liquor.

There was a lot of drinking on this trip.  No, strike that.  There was a lot of dranking.  Sure, neither of us got drunk or wasted or stumbled through the pool area to the swim up bar and set up shop.  But a steady stream of fruity cocktails, combined with the champagne the waiters seemed to pour freely when you told them you were celebrating an anniversary really got to me by the end of the week.

It got to the scale, too, but I’m going to pretend to ignore that for another week or so.

 

I still don’t like the ocean.

Yes, the Gulf of Mexico is far calmer and bluer than the Atlantic Ocean.  And, sure, it would have been romantic to frolic in my husband’s arms while on vacation in Mexico.  But I got as far as knee-deep and then noticed the strong undercurrent, the large waves crashing, and retreated to my margarita along the shoreline.

 

We need to keep the television turned off more.

In our home, unless it’s a weekend morning cartoon, a special movie night, or an important game, our television is usually off.  Until the kids go to bed, that is.  Then my husband and I plop down on the couch to catch up on our shows (usually with one or both of us on our laptops as well).  While on vacation, we plowed through not one, but TWO books.  And it gave us a well of new topics to talk about.  I’m thinking we need to keep the TV off, read more, and in general be less plugged in.

 

I like my husband.

Before you get all “ick, gross lovey dovey stuff”, let me explain.  Yes, I do love my husband immensely.  But this trip reminded me that I also really like him.  Like, genuinely enjoy being around him.  This time together brought us back to who we are as a couple, in all our stupid-joke glory.  And that after all of these years, we still get each other.

 

My kids are great kids.

The Catch-22 of getting away from your kids.  You can’t wait to be free of them, yet you think about them all of the damn time you’re away.  Seeing all those other cuties on the beach made me yearn for mine to be there with me.  WTF?  Clearly, I need to get out on my own more.

But all that time away from my kids gave me perspective.  As much as I let them get under my skin, they’re good kids.  They’re great kids.  Well-behaved, loving, and funny as hell.  And I love those little stinkers.

 

We need to get away more often.

I’m not talking about the two-hour road trips to visit family for the holidays.  I’m talking the “ship the kids off to family so we can be alone” kind of get-aways.  Seven and a half years is way too long of a time to wait to take a trip together.  Financially there’s no way we could afford to do this every year, or even every five years.  But I do think we need to make carving out time for just us a priority.

All in all, not too bad of a takeaway from a vacation, if I do say so myself.  Though, I could probably use a few more lessons.

Lessons that could be learned in, say, St. Lucia?

 

Filed Under: marriage, parenting, vacation

The Soundtrack of My Life

12 November 2013 by 2 Comments

I’ve often wondered what songs I’d include on the soundtrack if someone made a movie of my life.

Not that any movie producer or screenwriter is looking at my life and thinking “Hey, you know what would make a GREAT movie? An aging stay-at-home mom who’s lost her mojo and can’t seem to shake the holiday weight she put on in 2011.”

Besides, who the heck would want to play that role?

But if they DID, I’d have a list in hand of tunes that would land on the soundtrack. Because the movies that really resonate with me and make me want to crawl in to a character’s life for a little while are usually the ones that have a kick ass soundtrack with songs that speak to the character’s struggles and triumphs.

Or have scenes with a song so intertwined to the plot development and are just so plain memorable you can’t remove the song from the movie in your mind. Case in point: the famous boom box scene from Say Anything. Can you hear Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” and not think of John Cusack in a trench coat in the middle of summer?

Here are just a few songs that would need to appear on the soundtrack of my life.

Soundtrack

“Shake Your Rump” by the Beastie Boys
I’ve wiggled my booty and pulled 80’s dances out of my pocket to this song more than is humanly possible. It is The Song that will lure me out to the dance floor. Over and over again.

“Don’t Go Away”  by Toad the Wet Sprocket
I first heard Toad the Wet Sprocket the summer after high school before they released a hit song, and became a devoted fan. I can’t think of making my college voyage without a Toad song sprinkled in the mix.

“Dancing Queen” by ABBA
My theme song. Need I say more?

“Love” by
The sireny vocals of Harriet Wheeler telling me to love myself like no one else is exactly what I need to hear every now and then. Like a good friend slapping me out of a bad decision.

“Mr. Bitterness” by Soul Coughing
When I moved to New York City after graduate school, I spent the majority of my daily commutes listening to Soul Coughing on my portable CD player. Yeah, that’s right. A CD PLAYER. The kind that weighed four pounds and felt like a brick at the bottom of my messenger bag. This band’s sound felt like the city to me. Raw with unexpected finds around every corner, smart and boiling over with creative energy.

“Let Down” by Radiohead
For the disappointing times in my life.  What?  A girl’s entitled to be moody every once in a while.

“Go or Go Ahead” by Rufus Wainwright
It’s no secret that I’m a big fan of Mr. Wainwright, and this song is perhaps one of my favorites of his. Not necessarily because I’ve had any kind of similar heartbreaking experience, but because I saw him perform this live at the Beacon Theatre in NYC. A performance so raw and flawless and moving that it was truly a transformative experience for me.

“Just Breathe” by Pearl Jam ‎
Besides all of the songs that accompanied our wedding, this gorgeous song plays for my marriage, my husband. For all the obvious reasons found in the song lyrics, and for all the reasons between just my husband and me.

“Still Fighting It” by Ben Folds
The beauty of this song is that I loved it years ago, but it speaks to me even more strongly now that I’m a parent.  I dare you moms and dads to listen to this without tearing up a tiny bit.

“Sight of the Sun” by Fun.
“Carry On” could easily find itself on my soundtrack, as it got me through some pretty rough patches this past year. But “Sight of the Sun,” which appears on the Girls soundtrack, turns around one of my bad moods in the first nine notes. This band may just be my new obsession.

If any one of these artists wants to write a song for or about a retired, mediocre dancer who feels inept and swept up in motherhood while finding herself virtually unemployable at 40, contact me ASAP.

 

What songs would you want included in YOUR soundtrack?  I’d love to hear your picks in the comments below, on my page, or !

Filed Under: journey, marriage, music, parenting

9 years ago…

9 November 2012 by 12 Comments

Yesterday was my and Jon’s ninth wedding anniversary. 9 years. Almost a decade. Our marriage has lasted longer than TomKat.

We generally don’t make too much of a fuss about our anniversary. Gifts are usually small if any at all, there are cards exchanged, and we might make it to dinner by ourselves. Jon doesn’t quite know it yet, but I have big plans for our 10th. It involves shipping the kids off, escaping to a tropical paradise, and being hand fed peeled grapes and fruity drinks by cabana boys. And Jon can come too if he wants.

In the meantime, I thought I’d try to plan a little romantic surprise here. Last week I secured a babysitter, and after asking around for suggestions I made a reservation at one of the most popular romantic places in town, a French restaurant called The Refectory.  And since I had done all this in secrecy, this was my gift to Jon.  Viola!

But, Murphy’s Law would dictate that things would not go according to plan.  The babysitter texted me on Tues, saying that she’d been in the hospital all weekend with mono.  Well, now.  Crap.  A frantic hour of calls and texts to all our reserves proved unfruitful, and suddenly we found ourselves with Zero plans for our anniversary.

I was determined to make something happen though.   The wheels began to turn on Plan B.   I thought, “Hey!  The kids are in school Thursday morning, why not go to breakfast to celebrate?”  Good idea, n’est pas?

Jon got back in to town on Wednesday afternoon, and as the evening went on, I could hear Plan B slowly deflate.  Jon had come down with a cold and I could tell he wasn’t going to be in any condition to head out early in the morning. And the cough that’s been nagging me for a week suddenly got worse.  There would be no making out or romance, that’s for sure.

Still, I was determined to rally.  We need to celebrate our love, dammit!  While I threatened to cancel our anniversary all together, Plan C materialized.  We’d take the kids with us and celebrate as a family by heading to an upscale Mexican restaurant that we’d wanted to try that had a decent kids menu. Jon took a smorgasbord of drugs, I doped up on Mucinex and we went on our way.

Now, let me interject some observations in here for a second.  Kids, though they mean well, could really care less about anyone else’s special day if it’s not theirs. My two fully understand the concept of their own birthdays and relish in being celebrated gloriously for a day.  For my birthday a month ago?  Well, there were happy birthday wishes throughout the day, and they served me breakfast in bed, but they still fought every chance they got, still chose not to listen to our requests, and my daughter served up a giant plate of crankiness halfway through lunch.

When we got to the restaurant, I took a second after we sat down and resorted to begging.  “Please, guys, this is Mommy and Daddy’s special day.  Can you PLEASE behave in this nice restaurant?  That means eating your food with UTENSILS, no sugar packet wars and no sprawling out on the booth seat like it’s a day bed.”

All in all?  They did pretty well.  Or, at least they tried to.  Anniversary dinner with your kids though isn’t the same.  Trying to hold a conversation with your spouse so you can “connect” while simultaneously stopping to say “please sit on your bottom and stop eating ketchup like it’s soup” doesn’t really hold the same romantic vision that I had originally wanted.

Still, this is our life.  And these kids are the proof of our love.  A reminder to Jon and I that we chose each other to head out on this adventure together.  For better or worse.  In sickness and in health.  And if this is the only anti-romantic anniversary we’ve had to endure over the last 9 years, I consider myself very lucky.

 

Filed Under: babysitters, colds, date night, marriage

Not for me (fingers crossed)…

6 May 2011 by 7 Comments

How many of you have parents that are still together?

I think I can count on one hand how many friends I have whose parents are still married.  Mine divorced when I was in fifth grade.  While it wasn’t particularly difficult for me, per se, it was extremely hard on my mother, left to be a single mom to three kids and thrown in to the workforce after being home for over a decade.  My father, being the one that called it quits, seemed to fare better.  He remarried a wonderful woman who he is still with today, and they seem genuinely happy.  My mom, on the other hand, married a man who seemed like a good guy…until about 20 years later when he became a selfish ass, Type A control freak, who swindled their life savings and left my mom high and dry.  Well, technically, she divorced him, but he didn’t make it easy, and I think he would have divorced her sooner had he had time to dwindle their money down to nothing so that she wouldn’t get any of it.   It was a nasty split.  My mom seems to be very, very slowly finding her way, but I still worry about her.  My step-father, on the other hand, I don’t worry about in the least and hope I never have another interaction with him ever again.

It seems that the end of a relationship just brings out the worst in most people.  In the rare instances, I think it is possible to have an amicable split.  But it’s just so uncommon.  And lately?  Divorce seems to be surrounding me, like an epidemic.  Where’s my surgical mask?  I don’t want to catch it.

Jon and I got married almost eight years ago.  Looking at our wedding album, half of the married couples or domestic partners that attended our wedding are no longer together.  That is a TERRIFYING statistic.  What the hell is going on?  Or, what I really find myself asking, “What the fuck is wrong with people?”  Several of our dearest friends are calling it quits.  Long, drawn out separations that involve affairs, property disputes, child custody, etc.  Some are being handled well, some are not.  But what is most shocking to me is that the couples dissolving their relationships are some of the ones I looked up to as models.  Models of how two adults should communicate, act towards each other, and work as partners.  People who I thought would be together forever.  People who have been married for 20+ years, with kids going off to college.  People who still love each other dearly but want different things.  Some of the couples that I held up on a relationship pedestal are doing their best to keep things peaceful for all involved, trying to keep the building from crumbling when the foundation is still solid, and I really respect that.  Others are not playing nice, and that kills me.

But what is most devastating to me is that notion that my marriage and its longevity is not a given.  Don’t get me wrong, I would do anything, anything to keep my marriage together.  And at the moment, we’re nowhere near being in any danger.  We squabble like almost every other couple, get on each others nerves from time to time, and will occasionally drift apart. But luckily we both seem to recognize when we’re floating away and haul out the foam noodle to reel each other back in.  Sure, we could probably use more, uh, adult time.  Date nights, or nights without the television on while we lay glazed-eyed on the couch.  But we also enjoy that time, too.  We still love each other very much and enjoy each other’s company.  And thankfully, Jon still laughs at my worst jokes.

I want to be that 50% that makes it.  Not to beat the odds, but because I cannot imagine my life without my partner.  I cannot imagine getting to a place in my life where Jon is not a part of it.  He makes me a better person and challenges me without belittling me.  I feel beautiful and important when I’m with him, and I hope the feels the same (except, you know, not beautiful.  Handsome?  Foxy?  Or is that only for older guys like George Clooney?  Okay, insert whatever adjective men like to hear…).  I chose Jon to share my life with.  I vowed to stick it out, through thick and thin.  Through sickness and health.  Through good times and bad.  And thankfully, so far the good times far outweigh the bad a hundred to one.  Seeing how fleeting “forever and ever” can be?  Makes me work harder at my marriage and helps me appreciate and cherish what I have.

Filed Under: divorce, marriage