Or will I…
I have been desperate for a break from the boys. Not that I don’t love and adore them, but because motherhood – hell, parenthood, is tough! It is hard work to be so constantly present, conscious and strategic in the choices and decisions we make and the behaviour we model. In fact its impossible to be so, well, ‘perfect’ all the time. It is not only the physicality of these parenting demands, but also the emotional, intellectual and spiritual investments we make. And the remorse and guilt when I fall off the trying-to-be-a-great-mom-wagon is doubly exhausting. I’m not even striving to be a perfect mom. I long ago settled for being a “good enough mom”. For those of you who are parents, I guess I don’t need to convince you that this is a tough job – I can already see you nodding your virtual heads.
Anyway, I needed a break, so off I went on a weekend to Dubai to see my great friend Ali. Five days of relaxing, catching up and SHOPPING! Ah, bliss! I got back on the plane feeling really relaxed and refreshed.
Unfortunately I wasn’t home an hour before I began to feel completely overwhelmed again. The fallout from a trip away from home began to unravel and it almost instantly felt like I was being punished.
My husband was less than thrilled with the timing of my vacation. It had been cleared with him a few months in advance and as my friend Tonia says, we keep hoping they will but our husbands are never going to come to us and say: “Wow, you’ve been such a great wife and mom. I have cleared a week in my diary to be around for the kids, here are enough Voyager miles for you to fly business class with a friend… Oh, and here’s my credit card too.”
As for the boys, one would play up terribly and the other would be as good as gold and as charming as ever. But at least one was playing up all the time. I dealt with obstinacy, tears and tantrums. I was definitely being punished and loved all at the same time.
Devastatingly, my dear friend Sandy’s husband died after a bravely fought battle with cancer a few days later. Not only was I really sad but I was also determined to be there at his funeral to give Sands at least a hug and so I was off to London a week after I landed. I once again left two little boys and my husband who was more than a little grumpy for two more days.
The trip was extremely draining. The funeral alone depleted me. I got home to another round of varying degrees of passive and overt aggression. I still feel like I am being punished. My boys are acting out emotions I understand but don’t really know how best to deal with. For the first time, Robbie, my darling of a three year old, hit not one, but four other boys on his first day back at school after I arrived home from London. ‘ been unsettling for them to have me back one minute and gone again the next. After all, I am the proverbial gum on their shoes… I never go away without them. I joked that my trip was to show them that I am not always there as I was feeling severely taken for granted in the weeks approaching my Dubai trip. I guess the moral of the story is “be careful what you wish for”. It seems they did miss me! And they did not like it.
Bringing Up Boys ... Raising Good Men 