Our First Vacation Away

Since adding “mom” to my repertoire of hat tricks almost 18 months ago, I can count the number of nights away I have spent away from my son on one hand. That’s right, over the course of (approximately) 529 days, I have spent two nights away from him. Two!

The first night apart was easy in the sense that it was unplanned. I was in the ER with an appendicitis and my little boy was being well loved at my parent’s house. My morphine-induced thoughts shifted focus from my child as I was sending up prayers that the half marathon I ran earlier that day with my sister hadn’t caused my appendix to burst cascading you-know-what through my entire peritoneal cavity. By the time I was discharged he was finishing his peanut butter toast. We all survived.

The second night apart was more of a choice as my husband and I decided to act like we were in our early 20s again celebrating a friend’s nuptials. I walked my in-laws to the reception hall doors with one hand on the carseat and they were kind enough to listen to me spout off routines and scrupulous, unnecessary instructions. Again, we all survived but this recovery was slightly worse than the appendectomy. Note to my mom self, you’re not 21 anymore.

Reflecting on these two nights spent sans child, I recently asked my husband if the 529:2 ratio was crazy. As he paused and pursed his lips as if to start saying, “Well…,” he confidently and intelligently responded, “No.” He was lying. The thing is, we had an upcoming vacation planned. A seven-night, all-inclusive, adult-only vacation.

My anxiety was amped. But so was my excitement.

Excitement not because I felt I earned the vacation or deserved it, but because I was ready. Past opportunities, in addition to the ER and wedding extravaganzas, arose to have a night away from my brown-eyed boy but I declined. I was no doubt thankful, but ultimately uninterested. Working full-time increased the importance of spending as much time with him as I could and the theory that time apart was good for both of us was lost on me. But my readiness now started as a transition when the balance of my (well-spent, well-earned) rewards points hit zero from the purchase of our plane tickets. It was on.

We were off to the tropics with a great group of friends. Our son was off to spend the week split between both sets of grandparents. This was comforting. And both sets of grands assured me that they wouldn’t give him soda. It didn’t matter that over the course of the week I’d eat my weight in guacamole, but please don’t give him soda.

I didn’t ride along when “the handoff” of child and belongings occurred. Mostly because I’m weak, but also because I had to tie up some loose ends at work. The handoff was seamless and set the tone for the next seven nights.

The week was wonderful and went by fast! And the view from our room was spectacular.

Time was spent relaxing by the pool and sipping frozen beverages; snorkeling various coral reefs, holding sea urchins and exploring caves; having date nights and enjoying incredible food until we were full up to our eyeballs; and not having the responsibility of being mom and not feeling guilty about it because I knew he was in the best hands. We also, admittedly, talked about our child (probably more than we should have) and checked in on his adventures every couple of days thanks to free Wi-Fi and family members who graciously sent us updates. And I ate guacamole. Lots and lots of guacamole.

His week was equally as wonderful! The extended time he spent with our families without us meant they could see his true personality, his mini-mischievousness and sleepy snuggles. Midweek, I was overjoyed to see he was still having a good time, eating well and hadn’t been served soda. I’m a dietitian, afterall. Our three-year old niece, amongst many other family members, kept him fully entertained. And not missing us.

I was giddy with anticipation when we landed back in Minnesota knowing he was at our house. He was a bit shy when we initially reuinted but quickly became himself. He did miss us and we undoubtedly missed him. And just like the two times before, we all survived.

Since the week apart is all said and done, I must say it was fantastic for me as a mom, for my husband and me as a couple, and for our son as a grandson, nephew and cousin.

So to moms, no matter what your ratio, who are considering time away from your little one(s), this now 536:9 ratio mom says, do it! When you’re ready.