I'm doing something this weekend, something I've been dreaming about for quite some time. It seems almost grotesquely decadent, and when I tell other moms about it, they gasp and clutch their nursing tanks and stare at me with a combination of awe, envy and maybe even a little disgust, as if I were planning to meet up with George Clooney in his chocolate pudding hot tub.
But no, it's even more thrilling than that. I'm going to Mississippi. For two nights. All. By. Myself. As I mentioned in March, I'd been trying to come up with a way to get some pre-baby time alone, but as the weeks passed, the work stress increased and the airfares crept ever higher, I realized the likelihood of me doing any major travel was slim to nil. But based on the brilliant suggestion of one of my mama friends, I started looking into minor travel - B&Bs and small hotels within a day's drive of home. I soon discovered a semi-rustic, 2-bedroom cabin up in the hills. The "semi," by my interpretation, means that there's no phone line, but they have DirecTV, which is exactly my kind of roughing it.
And most importantly, they're willing to give me the entire place to myself. The 1800's log cabin, the 50 acres of hills and flowers, the wrap-around porch, the cozy lofted bedroom - all mine for two peaceful nights.
I keep focusing on the nights rather than the days because it's been, well, three and a half years since I got a solid night's sleep. I did get away for the weekend last Mother's Day, but it was to visit my sister and attend her baby shower, and since it was also Weaning Weekend, it wasn't exactly conducive to comfortable sleep. The only other time I've had away since Miss M's birth was to attend my grandmother's funeral last summer, which involved sleeping on a 40-year-old couch surrounded by my enormous-yet-septum-compromised cousins. And since the insomnia and nocturnal discomfort of this pregnancy began, I've been aching for a good night's rest, especially since all the usual pregnancy stuff is combined with Miss M's continued desire to creep into our room every night ... and then ask to go to the bathroom ... and then ask for something to drink ... and then ask for more covers ... And lately, just to add to the fun, she's been waking up at 6:40 and demanding breakfast, which despite The Admiral's general role as family chef, seems to be a job only I can accomplish.
So yes, I need a solid 10-14 hours of sleep. And then a nap. The other daylight hours I'm still trying to coordinate, but not overly so. The Admiral keeps asking what I'm going to do, and my first response was, "I don't know, whatever you did in Amsterdam," but that's probably not a good idea at this point in my pregnancy. You know, all that gallery walking and all. The subtle point I was trying to convey, however, is that he's taken two trips to Europe, two trips to San Francisco, two trips to New York and various visits to locales like Portland and Austin, all since becoming a dad. Yes, they were all work-related, but I think it would be tough to argue that he's had less than 48 hours of purely recreational time during any of those excursions, let alone the combination of them all. And really, anything as ambitious as "having fun" is secondary to this trip. My goals are to relax and to gather up my resources for what's to come. To enjoy the last little bit of having my body (sort of) to myself before jumping back into the nursing pool. To reflect on my mothering experience so far and prepare for all the changes to come.
And, quite possibly, to fill that hand-made copper tub with chocolate Jell-O pudding mix and fire up Out of Sight.