OP/ED: You won't be calling me paranoid once the kidnappers get me
This October, my besties and I are going on a girls-only trip to Napa Valley and San Francisco. We have been saving up for almost a year and have quite the travel itinerary planned. First, we are going to rent a little cabin in wine country and tour the various vineyards (sipping all the way). When we are not busy pickling our livers, we plan to frolic on the beautiful California beaches and mingle with the locals. Then we will go to San Fran and spend the rest of our time touring the city and eating at the restaurants recommended on the show Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives.
Sound amazing, right?
Well, I am freaking out!
Why, you ask?
Okay, I’m just going to blurt it right out … I hate the idea of being that far away from my children!
Yeah, whatever, make fun of me all you want. I don’t care. I do see the irony, however. After all, I am so often chomping at the bit to get away from the little buggers for five minutes; you’d think that I’d be jumping up and down at the chance to leave for five days.
But the kind of breaks that I’m looking for are more like being able to go to Wal-Mart by myself, or being able to shower without someone bursting in to pee or narc on their brother. Leaving the country is a whole ‘nother story. I mean, yes, they are going to be with their loving and capable father but … what if something happens?! Some things require a mother’s touch, you know!
Like, what if good old Dad forgets the bedtime routine, or doesn’t tuck them in ‘just right’? Reading bedtime stories is not his strong point. He’s as monotone as Ben Stein. I’ve heard more excitement and expression from him when I am showing him my latest eye shadow colours! Doesn’t he realize that when the Berenstain Bears are running from that spooky old tree, those little cubs are terrified?! You can’t make it sound they are strolling through a boring museum; you need to make your audience feel their terror!
And, what if something goes wrong down in the States? I could trip on the root of a grape vine and break my leg. I might get lost or get kidnapped! (Although, my husband has reassured me that if I were to get kidnapped, my captors would quickly return me with an apology note and some money.) Seriously though, anything could happen!
I know what you are all thinking: Anything could happen here in Castlegar too, Christine.
Well, yeah yeah, I’ve already heard it all so you can just save it. The fact of the matter is, I love those little rascals to whom I gave birth, despite the fact they drive me nuts 18,000 times a day, I actually really enjoy being around them – I enjoy protecting them, providing for them, and snuggling them.
I know, let’s all say it together “Awwww!”
Whatever, I’m going to be one of those weird moms who is overly-protective, overly-involved, and who drives her daughters-in-law nuts and I’m okay with that. I take this mama-bear stuff seriously, ya know.
So, I am going to go on this trip, and I am going to have a good time … but I reserve the right to leave a novel-sized instruction manual for my husband, cry intermittently, and phone every hour. And if it is not going so well, I reserve the right to go shoe-shopping in San Fran to soothe my anxious soul. With those things in place, plus my BFFs, and an endless supply of vineyards to tour, I should do okay.