Fresh back from a five-day sojourn in Southern Florida, I’m listening to blizzard warnings on the television and searching my skin for any remaining evidence that I was recently near the equator.
I’m also trying to remember what it was like sweating in the sun just a few days ago. I can see myself lying in that lounge chair. If only the wind would quit howling I might be able to recapture the feeling too.
This was the first vacation without kids for my husband Mike and I since we gave birth to our first seven years ago. We daydreamed about these five carefree days for months. The righteous indignation of our kids made the anticipation even sweeter. How dare we travel to the beach without them. “NO FAIR,” they complained.
You’re right – it isn’t fair, we taunted back. Whoooo hooo!!!!
We left them in the capable hands of my 23-year-old niece Amy, and stocked her with four gallons of milk, 3 dozen eggs, 24 yogurts, a freezer full of meals, pre-arranged play dates and car pools, schedules, charts and phone numbers for reinforcements.
What she lacked in experience and parental wisdom she would certainly make up for in energy, we reasoned. She agreed to the job without negotiating her fee first. Take Away Lesson Number One for Amy.
When we called her from the Minneapolis airport on our flight out, she was trying to squash a meal-time rebellion. Take Away Lesson Number Two was taking root: Do not rush to have children.
This one meal probably delayed Amy’s childbearing days by about a decade. But she handled it like a real pro and did what any seasoned mom would do. She created a chart, titled it, “Report to Parents” and decorated it with sad faces.
Here’s how she described her first meal: “E got up from the table several times while eating to do karate and yell. All three kids yelling even when repeatedly asked to stop. E and N repeatedly putting faces into pizza and laughing when told to stop. The youngest gave me two thumbs down and said, ‘Amy, you’re this!’”
Her final remark: “Supper = disaster.”
On the other end of the phone in Minneapolis, I searched for some helpful tip to make things better, but my mind was already on the beach. “Show them who’s boss, Amy,” I encouraged before dashing onto the plane to Miami.
On the jet way I remembered Mike’s warning to her the day before. “Amy, you know how there are times in life where five days just flies by and you think to yourself, man where did that time go?” he said.
“Yeah,” she responded cheerfully.
“Well … this isn’t going to be one of those times. The days are going to go reeeeaaaaal slooooooow.”
For us, on the other hand, the days dissolved faster than a bite of cotton candy. What an escape from the responsibilities of work and family, from cold weather and daily routines. By the second day, everyone on the trip was holding hands and snuggling -- not necessarily something that happens spontaneously after wrestling with kids and work all day.
We talked without interruption and broke all the rules -- stayed up late, slept in, ordered adult food, drank Pina Coladas in the afternoon (I think it was after noon), and read chapter books of our own choice.
The sun and heat were great, but the biggest takeaway from the trip was remembering how much I like my husband.
With a benefit like that, we won’t wait seven years to arrange another “unfair” getaway, if only to Minot. That is if we can convince an unsuspecting babysitter like Amy to make it possible.
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