It started out innocently enough. My husband was talking about our five-year wedding anniversary in November.
“We should do something,” he said. “Maybe take a trip somewhere.” (My husband always wants to take a trip somewhere. If it involves eating fantastic food recommended by a TV personality, even better.)
“A trip? I don’t know about that.”
I love my husband. We’ve been together for almost 10 years, married almost five, and now that I see him as a dad, I’m even more convinced that I made a good choice.
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But an overnight trip away from our sweet baby boy? Umm …
Someone in my moms group said she took a trip for fun without her toddler. She kept reminding herself that it was just 48 hours. She survived, of course, and so did the baby. So finally I agreed to go. Reluctantly.
We practiced in late August. We went to a late Sporting KC game and left Tommy with my in-laws overnight. I knew he was fine, his grandparents love him dearly, but I was more worried about myself. How would I sleep without listening for the baby monitor? How would I feel waking up without him?
I dreaded the date for weeks. After we got home, luckily our neighbors were having a get-together, so I stayed up late and that distracted me from missing him. The next morning though, I set my alarm and was rushing my husband out the door so we could go get our little guy.
When we got there, I don’t know that he was even all that excited to see us. He was eating (he’s his daddy’s son), he gave us a smile, and then he went back to his scrambled eggs.
So I should feel confident about November, right? He’ll be 2 years old. He can totally handle not seeing us for two days. Right?
“He’ll be fine,” my mother-in-law said several times.
So my husband started thinking bigger.
“Maybe we should go back to Puerto Vallarta.”
That’s where we got married. Yes, I would love to go back. We’d have a great time. But my husband would not want to stay just two days. He’d want to make it three.
And I’m not even sold on two yet.
I know at some point, I have to let go a little bit. Tommy is going to grow up and have sleepovers eventually. And I also know that I have to think about my husband, too.
Leona, a friend of mine from work, warned me last fall not to neglect my marriage now that I’m a mom. So I made an effort to make sure we go on dates just the two of us at least once a month. We love it. This trip is different though.
How will he handle it? Will he sleep through the night? Will I? Will he wake up wondering where his mommy is? Will I even be able to enjoy the time away or will I be missing him the whole time?
I just don’t know. My husband hasn’t planned the trip, and I’m not rushing him. I know if we go, we’ll all be OK. We’ll all probably have fun, us on our trip and Tommy getting spoiled by his grandparents. I’m even kind of looking forward to it.
No, that’s a lie. I’m kinda hoping my husband forgets to book the trip and we’ll just go next year. I’ll be ready by then for sure, right? Maybe. I’ll keep you posted.
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