Chris and I just got back from our two-year anniversary extravaganza. In case you haven't been keeping up, we went to Chicago without the kids. (Thanks Gammy and Poppy!)
Before we went, I was up to here with parenting. I just needed a break in the worst way. I needed to stay up late and sleep in. I needed to read a newspaper without somebody climbing into my lap and forcing her little body in between me and the story I was just getting into. I needed to give my back a break from lifting little humans and bending over continuously to wipe their noses and butts.
And while the break was nice, both of us weren't off the plane an hour before we said we should have brought the kids with us.
Who knew Chicago was such a kid-friendly city? Everywhere we went I found myself thinking "Z would love that." First of all, Chicago has some beautiful water fountains, or what Z calls "pretty wah wah." (Translation: pretty water.) And a lot of them are there for the sole purpose of being splashed in by children.
There were kids everywhere, haunting me. I got tired of those Chicagoans rubbing their cute children in my face wherever we went. It was just downright rude.
We did have a fantastic time. We saw some art. We ate some really good food. (Especially the brunch at Tweet, where I had country breakfast benedict, smothered in the most sausagey sausage gravy that "Z would have loved.") We had cocktails 95 stories up, literally in the clouds. We marveled at architecture from a boat floating through the Chicago River. And we walked our asses off. While holding hands.
But I didn't sleep late a single time. I seem to be incapable of that luxury, even though it's the one I need the most.
The time to ourselves was nice, but it was laced with that profound feeling that something was missing.
Well two somethings actually.
Or rather, two everythings.
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- "If we were fish, we'd still be swimming inside the plastic bag." - Vanessa Johnson
- "Whenever I don't know what else to do, I just go talk to a Lesbian." - Mindy Labernz
- "Wit doesn't grow on trees!" - KC
- I walk a fine balance almost daily of going mad with stress and mad with love.
- "Corporate culture has the same tolerance for parenting as sulfuric acid does for skin." - Baby Daddy
- "It is a universal truth that a neurotic mother in want of a worry will manufacture one." -Slouching Mom
- "There is too much space between people and paper." -Binky
- "Don't ever cry over something that can't cry over you." -Cheewa James Modoc
- "Like ivy, we grow where there is room for us." -Miranda July
- On Motherhood: "No way somebody did this for me!" -Vanessa Johnson
- "Nothing says I'm an asshole like driving a Hummer." -Chris Davis
3 comments:
My grandfather always used to say that, until you hsve kids, you can't understand how hard and how amazing it is to have them. So true, as your post reminds me.
We were kidless too, for a wedding, though I have to say that although I did miss them, it was great to have time to ourselves.
On the way to pick them up, though, I was near desperate with want to see them.
Sean and I were both away from Baby Girl for the first time for our 5th anniversary. It was so strange! I looked for her over my shoulder a lot, like maybe she was just around the corner.
I'm glad we did it, though.
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Chris and I just got back from our two-year anniversary extravaganza. In case you haven't been keeping up, we went to Chicago without the kids. (Thanks Gammy and Poppy!)
Before we went, I was up to here with parenting. I just needed a break in the worst way. I needed to stay up late and sleep in. I needed to read a newspaper without somebody climbing into my lap and forcing her little body in between me and the story I was just getting into. I needed to give my back a break from lifting little humans and bending over continuously to wipe their noses and butts.
And while the break was nice, both of us weren't off the plane an hour before we said we should have brought the kids with us.
Who knew Chicago was such a kid-friendly city? Everywhere we went I found myself thinking "Z would love that." First of all, Chicago has some beautiful water fountains, or what Z calls "pretty wah wah." (Translation: pretty water.) And a lot of them are there for the sole purpose of being splashed in by children.
There were kids everywhere, haunting me. I got tired of those Chicagoans rubbing their cute children in my face wherever we went. It was just downright rude.
We did have a fantastic time. We saw some art. We ate some really good food. (Especially the brunch at Tweet, where I had country breakfast benedict, smothered in the most sausagey sausage gravy that "Z would have loved.") We had cocktails 95 stories up, literally in the clouds. We marveled at architecture from a boat floating through the Chicago River. And we walked our asses off. While holding hands.
But I didn't sleep late a single time. I seem to be incapable of that luxury, even though it's the one I need the most.
The time to ourselves was nice, but it was laced with that profound feeling that something was missing.
Well two somethings actually.
Or rather, two everythings.
The Vay Cay
Before we went, I was up to here with parenting. I just needed a break in the worst way. I needed to stay up late and sleep in. I needed to read a newspaper without somebody climbing into my lap and forcing her little body in between me and the story I was just getting into. I needed to give my back a break from lifting little humans and bending over continuously to wipe their noses and butts.
And while the break was nice, both of us weren't off the plane an hour before we said we should have brought the kids with us.
Who knew Chicago was such a kid-friendly city? Everywhere we went I found myself thinking "Z would love that." First of all, Chicago has some beautiful water fountains, or what Z calls "pretty wah wah." (Translation: pretty water.) And a lot of them are there for the sole purpose of being splashed in by children.
There were kids everywhere, haunting me. I got tired of those Chicagoans rubbing their cute children in my face wherever we went. It was just downright rude.
We did have a fantastic time. We saw some art. We ate some really good food. (Especially the brunch at Tweet, where I had country breakfast benedict, smothered in the most sausagey sausage gravy that "Z would have loved.") We had cocktails 95 stories up, literally in the clouds. We marveled at architecture from a boat floating through the Chicago River. And we walked our asses off. While holding hands.
But I didn't sleep late a single time. I seem to be incapable of that luxury, even though it's the one I need the most.
The time to ourselves was nice, but it was laced with that profound feeling that something was missing.
Well two somethings actually.
Or rather, two everythings.