7 things I learned when we ditched the kids for a long weekend
It took us eight years of parenting and innumerable tantrums (the kids?), marital spats (ours), and countless accumulating gray hairs (mine, all mine), until my husband and I finally hit the road.
Yes, we packed our bags, (I) left several pages of long, nonsensical scribblings for the babysitter, and we flew away for a three-night getaway. We left our two daughters?ages 4 and 8?with a babysitter (actually, TWO babysitters?two 20something friends who could tag-team care for our rambunctious kids).
My anxiety was through the roof ahead of time?will we even make it on the trip" (One kid had a nasty cough and I kept hearing that pneumonia was going around.) Will my kids cry the whole time I am gone" (One kid is rather?emphatic that we should not be allowed to leave her for even one night.) Will one of us come down with the cold before our departure" Will I have time to get a bikini wax and/or pedicure" Will getting such grooming jinx this thing" So when we finally closed the door and hailed a cab to the airport one recent Thursday morning, it felt like a real accomplishment. At the airport well in advance of our three-hour flight to Jamaica, we had what felt like a luxurious airport breakfast together near the gate. We joked about how incredibly pleasant the kid-free time already was: ?Hey, let?s just hang at Newark Airport all weekend; we can take Ubers from terminal to terminal to sample the food,? we joked, half-seriously.
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