When I’m on Vacation, I Do Not Miss My Kids
I am off to visit friends in New York City this week. I don’t remember when I’ve been this excited. The last time I was in New York was four years ago when Obama t-shirts adorned the make-shift blankets of street vendors. My children are already lamenting my departure. I am reminded of our honeymoon in South Africa in 2009. We were in a children’s clothing store buying something for the kids and the saleswoman asked us where we were from. “Oh! That far away? You must miss your children!” I responded immediately, “No. I don’t miss them at all. I love them dearly, but I don’t miss them.” Sheesh, it had only been a few days. Does that make me a bad parent? It was the damn truth. I should have said, “What I really miss is going to the restroom by myself.”
I think it’s really important to have experiences beyond your children. I am more than the sum of six soccer practices/games per week! Yes, that is excessive, but that’s what happens when you have three children who are all in soccer. It’s insanity, but that’s what I signed up for, right? Besides, they will be in the very competent care of their dad. I’m not even being snarky. He stayed home with them for eighteen months when he was looking for a job. It’s harder when you are out of practice, though.
I’m meeting up with a group of six friends from high school who are still the most fun people I know. We’ve been meeting in the different cities each of us live for the past decade. I think we’re closer now that we ever were in high school. I’m also going to see a friend I haven’t seen in 27 years. Where does the time go? I still feel 19. Only with extra thighs, bunions and fade cream. Next up: NEW YORK CITY, BITCHES!