I had the opportunity to run away yesterday. But instead of running, I flew, to San Diego, to get my hair done and enjoy 8 blissful child-free hours. It’s been a week without the hubby and I’m fried by the timeouts, the tantrums and all of the usual I’m-turning-two-soon-and-going-to-make-you-my-bitch shenanigans. Sorry kiddo, but the last thing I wanted to do was spend one more hour with you.
And yes, I know I’m lucky/spoiled/ridiculous to be flying down to San Diego to get my hair done. But let me present the arguments in my defense.
A) I fly for free.
B) I’ve been going there for 10 years and pay the most ABSURD price.
C) My parents still live in San Diego and it gives me an excellent excuse to see them.
See? Not so bad right? I did however while I was traveling make note of how different things were between traveling with the kid and without.
How to travel, without the kid.
Kiss everyone in the house goodbye… Try not to smile or whistle as you
walk run sprint out the door to the car.
Get in the car, remove all Sesame Street stations, Glee radio or Little Einstein movies from your phone… Turn on NPR.
Sit in traffic, reveling in the quiet and stress free moment of just sitting down, listening to nothing but the drone of KQED on the radio. Who knew traffic could be so stress free?
Get through security without a single meltdown or tantrum, throwing your purse and shoes in a bin that is devoid of sippy cups, stuffed animals or diaper bags.
Sit at the gate, quietly, with no running, skipping, finding letters, or harassing of other airport patrons.
Board the airplane, annoyed that you have to wait until after family boarding… What is this shit? I’m NEVER in the C group!
Sit on the plane, listening to the other parents as they plead and beg their children to sit, be quiet, stop pushing the call buttons, please sit DOWN. Feel smug in the satisfaction that you don’t have to do that. There are no snacks ground into your seat, no cups of milk or water spilled on your lap. Tweet, Facebook to your hearts content before they shut the doors and tell you to turn everything off.
Before you do, sneak one last look at the phone to see a picture your husband sent of the baby, at his first day of soccer class.
Miss them terribly…
Then have a Bloody Mary.
Wash Rinse and Repeat until you have arrived back at the doorstep of your home in NorCal with super hot hair, but exhausted and missing your family like you never knew possible.
Exhausting but totally worth it.