I’ve been a full time mother for just over 12 years now and I was beginning to climb the walls. My karaoke repertoire consists of Rosie and Jim and the theme tune to Noddy (Teletubbies is just so yesterday don’t you think?). I can do spelling tests, cook tea and find my way around the cbeebies website simultaneously without too much fuss, but adult conversation? That’s getting tricky. I decided I had to take a break, before it was too late. I phoned my sister (Travel Agent, thank goodness) and told her I needed warmth, no cooking and an hour snorkeling, and I needed it now. She called me back within hours with the arrangements. I packed, switched on the answerphone, and left a message on my website to say when I’d be back. Within the week I was off, on my own, no one with me, traveling alone.

It was weird and wonderful I have to say. The first thing I noticed was how little I needed for the flight, just sleeping pills and a passport, fantastic. There were no nappies in my suitcase, no pink pajamas or soft toys. No extra cartons of milk and having to go through “something to declare” because of food allergies. I watched the sunset from a hot tub without worrying if anyone might drown. This was relaxing indeed. Then my holiday really began, I found my room was cleaned twice a day. I wasn’t impaled by little toenails at night or called to take anyone into the bathroom. I discovered Chocolate Martinis after Dinner! And conversation, conversation without anyone butting in! I could wander aimlessly around and even get hopelessly lost without having to explain myself. I browsed in shops, can you believe it? I leisurely wandered around, and then I went snorkeling. I was in Heaven. Coming home was great too, my flight was canceled and I was so grateful my children weren’t exposed to not flying British Airways.

I arrived home a few hours later than expected, my husband looked wonderful in a new suit. He explained that he had been to a funeral that morning and because he couldn’t find his usual suit trousers, he had to go out (all on his own) and buy a new suit! He’d even phoned two dry-cleaners and explained that his wife was on holiday, he couldn’t find his trousers and did they have them by any chance?

The house looked lovely and clean, I could see my bedroom floor and pairs of socks instead of piles of odd ones! My children appeared, it was so good to hug and kiss them. One had refused to go to school the entire time I’d been away. One had refused to bath. One had complained loudly about the lack of sleepovers allowed. They wore odd clothes, pants sideways and had knotty hair. So I was home and I really was in Heaven. The holiday had revived my sanity, but the bedlam at home is truly wonderful. I washed my little girl and I dished out presents. I was kicked in the night, dribbled on and had the quilt pulled off me, it was great. I will go again next winter though.

This entry was posted on Saturday, September 29th, 2007 at 6:04 pm and is filed under Mothering. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.