*I am not sure whether you are still considered as a baby when you are 2 years old, at least I know from hearing Emma calling younger children like this that she considers herself way past this stage but anyway. This post is about spending your first holiday as a couple after you’ve become parents.
I can’t say I had never left Emma for a few days before, but every time I did, it was for a short WE with a friend or my mum and sister… she stayed with her daddy.
But lately my husband and I both felt we really needed a break just the two of us, and when I had to go to Palermo for my work, it seemed a good opportunity to spend a romantic WE together… so off we went.
I had very mixed feelings the days before departure, though : as usual we were in a rush and didn’t really take any time to prepare the trip nor think about it, but then when I had to pack Emma’s luggage for her holiday at my mum’s (the only place on earth where mothers feel comfortable leaving their child) it felt so strange and somehow unnatural that I started feeling guilty and not even happy.
That is, until her next tantrum, of those which makes you recall the sleepless nights, the lack of time for yourself, how much you can miss the pleasure of having nothing to do and spend time with someone who shares your needs and interests. All things that make us sometimes feel frustrated and start fights with our loved one.
I feel bad writing this, and I wonder whether the others mums really feel this way too. I mean, officially everybody agrees that the first years of motherhood are tiresome and shows understanding towards your need to get some space… but then when it gets to really leave your child just for your own pleasure? Some do it too, others don’t but say they envy you (do they really, or are they being nice?), others will tell you that frankly, their need to be with their child is the strongest one.
Well, I must admit I didn’t miss Emma that much. I mean, she was my first thought when I opened my eyes in the morning (the morning, like 9.00, not 4.30), and I was anxious to get some news and pictures by the evening, but in the meanwhile? I thoroughly enjoyed my romantic WE. I hadn’t felt so relaxed for ages, and this from the first minutes wait in the airport (where I could just wait, not having to think about keeping a toddler occupied nor wondering whether I should change her diaper before or after landing).
Am I a bad mother? Should I feel ashamed? Or am I usually too stressed and should I learn to let it go a bit more?
Honestly I don’t know, and that is not what I want to remember from this experience. What I think is that we are not only mothers. And that we certainly can’t be good ones if we are over-frustrated (a little bit of frustration is inevitable) because we never take the time for us we need. Also it reminded me how much I love my husband and our talks, how much he makes me laugh. And sure between the soup, the bath and the hours we spend trying to get Emma to sleep, we don’t have much time for this all and one could forget the magic is still there.
Then again, I am afraid there is only one way to know. Or to keep it alive.
Off you go?