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I am
about to embark on the most marvelous week. The most glorious, splendid
week of all weeks! It is a week I call: My week without kids. Now don't
get me wrong; I love my kids. I am rabid with love for those boys. With
all their faults; they are still my babies; even though two of them
could carry me with much more ease than I could them. But this week
without kids......ahhh, it is sweet. Every
year my hubby goes to some quasi-exotic local for a conference. This
time is usually fun mixed with stress for him as he prepares to be a
keynote speaker. So as I am packing bathing suits and funwear, he is
struggling over final notes and corrections to his speech. The one
concession to my fun is that every year, when we arrive at our hotel, I
have to preview his 45 minute long speech. The
speeches, are, without doubt, impressive. It's just that all that
science talk makes my brain hurt. I have to focus all of my being into
paying attention to what he is saying, in order to have any semblance of
understanding of the topic. When he is finished, he will invariable ask,
"Well, what do you think?" Here's
where it gets sticky. I can praise him to the skies, but without
concrete criticism or backup statements, he just thinks I am being a
nice wifey. Which I am. However, I really, really listen and try to
glean some information that I can question or offer helpful criticism.
But oh, the words! The words that he uses are without doubt the biggest
brain busters I have ever encountered. Of course, he and I travel in
different circles- he in the world of physics, science and logic.....
and me, well, not. Last
year I managed two fairly relative questions and he actually said,
"I am glad you asked that- because someone else might have wondered
the same thing." Yes, I
thought, but would their brain be throbbing off it's stalk just from the
sheer effort of trying to understand the basic concept of the speech? I
doubt it, as the audience he is speaking to is comprised of other
techno-Bobs like himself. Anyway,
after that critique, I am a free woman. And let the sweet, sweet,
kid-free week begin. No more
brain pain for mama. No more
waking kids for soccer camp, band camp, babysitting. No more
breaking up squabbles between testerone-tortured brothers. No more
smelly sneakers. No more
endless, endless mounds of laundry. No
cooking. No
cleaning. No
driving, chasing, yelling, screaming me. Just me. And
sometimes my husband, when he is not caught up in the festivities of the
engineer-a-thon. And it
is a precious week to me. For a
while. Then I start to look around and see all the fabulous, beautiful
sights, and I imagine how my three boys would love to see them. I take a
boat ride and know that my seven year old would be thrilled beyond his
small being to be on that boat. I see a fisherman, struggling with a
large catch on his line and think about my middle boy- a boy who loves
to fish and to see that struggle of man against nature. I note a freaky
punked out kid with purple hair and a pin through his nostril and wish
my oldest could see life outside the burbs. Then I start to really miss
my boys. And soon, every sentence I utter is beginning with the words:
"Oh, the boys would really love this." or "It's too bad
we didn't bring the boys." When I luxuriate in my posh hotel room,
complete with a mini bar and fridge, I think how all three boys consider
staying in a hotel the be-all end all, and how my little guy would be
digging those gummy bears out of that fridge with such gusto. Good thing for me it is just one week. One perfect, precious, kid-free week, that I will enjoy with abandon............most of the time.
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