Friday, September 25, 2009


I have spent the better part of this week trying to squeeze in all the little things that have to happen before we can leave for Hawaii. People have been asking me if I'm excited, and, frankly, I'm the least excited I've ever been before such a big trip. I mean, I'm 100% glad we're going (obviously!), but right now I'm just consumed with Is the laundry done? and Did I re-stock the shampoo and body wash? and Don't forget to print out a map to the soccer field and Finish the list of important phone numbers that I can't even focus on getting my brain into the "excited" gear.

Once I get on the plane, I hope I will be able to let go, to be excited, but even then, I am not sure how it is going go be. This week, I have let my mind go to the Unspeakable Crazy Place, the place where I envision all sorts of tragic outcomes to the decision we made to take this trip. Most of these fears stem from my deep dislike of being on a plane with Jason, but without the girls. I don't like it one bit, and it scares me, but the rational part of me knows that it is far, far more risky (statistically) to ride in a car with my husband, so if I were to follow this hysterical logic, we'd never go anywhere again, and that's clearly no way to live. It just feels weird, to me, to know that I'll be so, so far away; to know that it would take me a full day to get back home to them.

When the girls were very, very small and constantly needy and hardly ever sleeping, I was occasionally somewhat desperate to get away from them. I felt suffocated by their need, exhausted by it. I distinctly remember fantasizing about giving Jason a bottle and a can of formula, wishing him well, and checking myself into a hotel room for a day or two. (I didn't; maybe I should have.) I was nursing exclusively, and I wanted to control every minute outcome of their day, so I didn't let myself leave, much, those first months of their lives.

Now, it is not as big a deal. Of course, I worry a little about everything going smoothly, and I know they'll miss me and I'll miss them. But overall, they're fine, they'll be fine, everything is fine; they don't specifically need ME. I can leave them. And now, I don't want to nearly as much.

So there's that. Tomorrow, or the next day, I promise, a list of all the many tropical things I'm looking forward to doing and seeing and eating and experiencing.

1 comment:

  1. I'm leaving on a kid-free vacation next week, too, and I'm going through EXACTLY what you describe here. Last night my 15 month old was up and crying on and off for a few hours, and I completely panicked. What if he does that while we're gone? What if something happens to my mom while she's watching them? What if? What if? Really ruins the delicious pre-trip anticipation, doesn't it?