Nate and I traveled 385 miles on Saturday. Leaving camp, heading south at 10:30 in the morning, we didn't have anything planned, no particular destinations, rush, or expectations, but all of the greatest intentions. Like every other 'kid free escape', it's almost comical, the build up of our conversations have, on the anticipation of finding our new 'hole in the wall' must and the endlessness of possibilities, the 'we can make non-calculated pit stops' vibe, merged with the energy of two kids, who are allowed to stray, unsupervised for the first time.
We started our search for another form of Yellow Dog Eats, but like most times, our hunger got the best of us, and we settled for something, very much, on the beaten path (which we always regret, pledging to not give in so easily, next time), and we ended up with a salad, that was peppered with strong onions, had expired black olives, and…. wait for it….. a lemon wedge on the side…. for color… to make up for their short supply of tomatoes, of course. I'm pretty sure Nate has never had such a memorable side salad in his life and that's kind of the whole point, right?
The weird thing about this weekend was, we had no obligations and no kids, a rare alignment. My parents just wanted to have their grandchildren for a few nights, nothing planned, no particular reason, no rush, or expectations, purely love driven… the best kind of driving, if you ask me.
There are always three things that happen when we're without the kids. After we once again confirm the cuteness of our own children, I get a rush of guilt, for having left them for 'no reason', and have to shift my mindset, soaking in the experience of it all, regardless. I'm always reminded how great uninterrupted conversations (about things other than our kids) are with my husband, and that he's actually, rather perceptive and pretty funny too. And as much as I try to stay in the presents of the now, my mind easily slips into focus, all the tasks at home, that are there waiting to be done, when you're not remotely close to being home, to do them.
Our talk is littered, with adult adjectives, for no other reason, than because it can be, and by the end of the day, we somehow solved all of the important problems in life and secured our path to our future, this time, with talk of running a bed & breakfast located next to a giant corn maze/pumpkin patch, with plenty of room for horses and a (bigger) tractor.
Now that we are home, I'm reminded, I'm the happiest surrounded by the chaos of my kids, our conversations are clean and more immediate to the relevant now, and the clear approach to the 'do's at home have been shifted out of focus against the reality of time, with the regret of not appreciating the time away from it all, to the fullest.
And the reality right now, is that it's been 3 days since the weekend ended, and I'm just now 'reflecting' about it. I have a streaking baby on my hands, a growing cold cup of coffee, laundry needing to be folded, a quickly boring Calvin, and some dishes that may or may not get done before lunch is made. Today's a rare day, of nothing, among the mix of all there is to do in the up coming days. But snuggles will be indulged in when provided, books will be read at leisure, and along with soaking in the laziness of it all, expectations are low today, pure and raw, with little to no guidance or rush, but with the greatest of intentions of soaking in it all… to the fullest.
Because with all the expectations, to do's, time framed must get done's, and less memorable, more eatable salads, home, is pretty hard to beat…