When This Mom Ran Away - And Why - And What I Did

It had been a really rough year, partially due to being a mother. Imagine one of those years, however you picture your roughest parenting times... and fill in the blanks.  Usually I enjoy being a mother, defiinitely 80% of the time, sometimes even more.  Still, I'm the type that likes a breather between the birth of one child and the arrival of the next. In my case, that space is 7 years between children. We have no exceptions to that rule. We also have three children.

 This means that our first son was born 7 years before the second and so forth. We have a good 21 years between the oldest and the youngest - or more (math isn't my strong point).

You'd think this would mean each child would get 7 years of undivided attention and be eager to  have someone else take the heat. He's also be glad (you'd think) to have two parents stop telling him to wipe his feet on the mat, take off his shoes after entering the house, wear a warm jacket, do his homework, stop catching so many blasted snakes and leaving them in his shirt or pants pockets for someone (me) to discover on laundry day....etc.

But no. Each time we had another son come along, one of our other kids would get jealous, grumpy, spiteful and just plain mean. Plus, I'd be 7 years older myself each time, making me less patient. My nervous system seemed to be getting more finely tuned and my tolerance for noise was going down. Every little thing seemed to set me off, from the way one son thumped down the stairs to the word "whatever" that erupted from another's mouth more often than curse words on the defunct cable show Deadwood.

Even though I had techniques for dealing with "kids who bicker", my usually reliable techniques weren't working that day. I was on deadline and my editor wanted me to do an extra interview of some formerly famous celebrity that wanted to be in the article. So there was that. Then our washing machine broke. Then a beloved picture fell off the wall, scattering glass everywhere. Then our oldest was in a very minor fender bender.

I know I should have been counting my blessings....the kid in the car accident unhurt, the picture was just a thing, not a person....the washing machine could be replaced, the floor dried out, etc. Plus, I had a paying job.  But I was in that zone where you can not take..another...thing. Not one.

Then the kids started to fight. It was Friday and I envisioned a very long weekend ahead. I'm not proud of what I did next. But I did it, anyway. I got my article done, submitted it, and then turned to my kids as well as their shocked father and said, "See you guys on Monday." And I left, just like that.

I went to the finest hotel I could afford, checked in and spent the weekend watching every movie I had missed during the year. I ate room service and enjoyed every bite. I took full advantage of the mini fridge in the room which had exactly two mini bottles of wine and some excellent snacks. I took several long baths while I was there too. It was pure bliss.

Occasionally, I'd pop out and watch the noisy kids and their parents in the swimming pool or an older couple holding hands and walking around the lobby or staggering away from the bar area or I'd watch the glass elevator go up and down between floors, even if no one was in it. Then I'd pop back to my room and enjoy the privacy.

Guilt? I had a few moments of that but I knew the kids were in good hands, although I didn't know if my spouse would be angry or nice when I returned (nice, as it turns out). I decided that since I'd made this step I was going to enjoy every moment and face the consequences later. And, mostly, I did, although I was responsible enough to leave my phone number with my husband, with strict instructions to call "only in an emergency."

I returned my home to face some children who were eerily nice, plumping pillows behind my back when I sat down, fetching diet colas for me, asking if they could do extra chores. That lasted a day.After that, we had a family conference and made some changes and things improved. The largest improvement was my attitude.

Maybe I'm wrong about this but I think women often fail to take enough time to themselves. I was one of them. I'm not one of them (as much) any more. There is more balance, fun, time spent away with my husband as well as time spent with the kids. We try not to sweat the truly small stuff. And that is all I really have to say...today. Someone's comment set me thinking about this past moment in my life.