The Summer Experiment that had me shelving all work and any notion of alone time and spending all of my waking time with the kids, save a few grabbed moments here and there (I swear those daily runs kept me sane) is about to come to a screeching halt. My Mother in Law arrives Thursday to pick up my three eldest children and whisk them away to Denver, Colorado for about ten days. We’ll fly out and meet them, spend a week in the Rockies vacating, and then come home.
M and I are giddy with possibility and we’ve broadcast it to anyone who’ll listen: “Francie and the Boys will be in Denver and for ten whole, glorious days we’ll only have Sidney and Fiona!”
That’s right! We’re beside our ourselves with excitement because for ten whole, glorious days we’ll only have a baby who naps sporadically and our Jihadi toddler. Go us!
I suppose it really is a matter of perspective. And by perspective I mean ours. Clearly five children has altered the way we see the world, ourselves, and what it means to be “alone.” M caught himself bragging about our impending “solitude” to his co-workers, some of whom only have two children and are barely holding it together. I proudly announced to some friends that M and I are even going downtown for a night, checking into a hotel and spending some quality time alone… with a nursing nine month old in tow. Because nothing says romance quite like a Pack and Play.
But when you have to get five children fed, bathed, and into bed on a nightly basis, and cannot manage to do it without threats, promises, the Voldemort voice, and a stiff drink when it’s all said and done, two children seems like a dream. In fact, it seems to me that only having two to look after will be like having a pet, albeit a rather high maintenance one. (I had the same realization after flying with only one child; it’s about as challenging as traveling with a goldfish.)
It’s also worth noting that as much work as a baby is, she can’t answer back or shoot me a look packed with pure malice and annoyance. And while Fiona can do both of those things (she learned quite quickly), it’s cuter coming from a toddler who can quickly be distracted with an pink ice lolly or thirty minutes of a shrill Latina and her boot-clad monkey companion.
I don’t care what anybody says, we’ve got ten days of easy coming our day. You heard it here first.