Parenting in the Pines

Parenting Pines IN THE

Vacation—All I Ever Wanted

BY AMANDA ODEN

UP UNTIL LAST WEEK, I had never spent a night without my children. People used to think I was exaggerating when I say the only time I’d ever leave my kids overnight was to go to the hospital and give birth to another baby, but it really was true. (With the exception of the one time, while I was seven months pregnant with my second child that I left my daughter overnight with my husband while I drove to Atlanta to see Beyoncé. But, I mean, come on, it was freaking Beyoncé!)

Some of my hesitation to leave them overnight was my own anxiety and fears of something terrible happening while I was away. And some came from not living near a reliable family member who could babysit long enough for us to take a trip. And the rest came from having three very small kids in quick succession, which didn’t exactly leave a ton of money, time or energy to travel anyway.

Which is why my husband and I were super excited, after almost five years, when my sister, who was in the States visiting from Berlin, offered to stay with our kids so that we could get away for a grown-up vacation.

We decided on Joshua Tree National Park in California (a destination that not a single one of our kids would have had any interest in visiting at all) and quickly booked flights and a romantic Airbnb just outside the park. The things we were most excited about were not terribly romantic, but activities like eating in a restaurant without bouncing a baby on your knee, sleeping for eight the Halloween decorations, I knew my husband was right. I needed a break and decided to take one.

At 6 a.m. the next morning, my 5-year-old woke up super early to catch me before I left and handed me her prized stuffed animal, a funny little toy known as a Squishamal, that she had named Pizza. “Take Pizza just in case you’re scared to be by yourself.” Yup, so with tears in my eyes and Pizza safely in my carry-on bag, I began my journey.

My flight was thankfully uneventful and before I knew it, I was lounging peacefully in a gorgeous house in the Mojave Desert. I poured myself

I pulled my new companion Pizza out of my tote bag and gave her a little squeeze.

consecutive hours and going for a hike without stopping 900 times to pick up rocks and sticks sounded heavenly to us.

Alas, the day before we were scheduled to leave for our trip, my sister had an emergency and wasn’t going to be able to babysit after all. To say we were bummed is an understatement.

Just as I was about to hop online and see if we could cancel our reservations without any major penalties, my husband in a moment of compassion, or perhaps temporary insanity, said, “Don’t cancel. You should go by yourself. I already took the time off work and you’re always saying how much you need a break. We’d probably lose money on backing out anyway. I can handle the kids. Just go and relax and come home refreshed.”

I was reluctant at first, but with the holiday season fast approaching and my burn-out level already nearing max capacity when we’d barely put away

It was official, I was lonely.

a glass of wine and sat down on a cream-colored chair (that my kids and probably my husband would have absolutely destroyed as soon as we walked in the door) and tried to decide between a peaceful shower or a nap.

The guilt, however, set in almost immediately. I did the time difference math and realized my husband was likely on his hands and knees scrubbing mac and cheese from the dining room floor in the aftermath of lunch. I sent a quick text reminding him where the Magic Erasers were and tried to get back to relaxing. But the truth is, after five years of sleep deprivation and being constantly on the go, I’d forgotten how to be chill. And to be honest, it all felt like a lot of pressure to decompress and relax and have fun, but also not waste the time away.

I pulled my new companion Pizza out of my tote bag and gave her a little squeeze. It was official, I was lonely.

I made the short walk downtown and had dinner in a restaurant that didn’t offer crayons with your menu. I was thankful for the opportunity to eat a meal without first having to cut up someone else’s entree and blow on it, but I had to remind myself to slow down and savor each bite because I’ve become so used to shoveling food down my throat before the next tantrum or potty break. Afterwards, I bummed around an art gallery followed by a souvenir shop where I spent a small fortune on more Squishamals that my children absolutely do not need.

I was honestly ready to head home after the first night but my sweet husband encouraged me to finish out the trip even though I know he was exhausted.

After two nights away from my family, I was at my limit. I missed my husband’s dumb jokes and my baby’s squishy cheeks and my daughter’s neverending commentary about every single thing and my toddler’s sticky hugs. The flight home felt like it took ages and I couldn’t tell what moved slower, the luggage on the carousel at baggage claim or every driver in front of me on the drive to my house.

The vacation turned out to be much different than the one initially planned, but I think the result was a good one. I got some rest but, more importantly, I got a little perspective. I can honestly say, though, that Pizza and I are just so glad to be home! SP