This past weekend/Mother’s Day, my girlfriends and I decided to jump ship and head west to visit our bestie in Colorado. It wasn’t a Mother’s Day Trip per se. It just happened to be the only date that worked for everyone, so we went for it. We decided we weren’t going to do anything but eat, drink, hit up the nearest dispensary and for a few of us, get beat with palm fronds at the local Russian bath house. P.S. I highly recommend the Russian bath house experience. It was very different from other spa services I have had in the past, and aside from being completely buck ass naked in front of my gal pal, I walked out of that place feeling totally rejuvenated and ready to enjoy some R & R with some of my oldest and dearest. Might I add, Denver never disappoints.
The entire trip could not have been better executed as our Denver living, beer slinging bestie knows how to entertain. It ended up being the greatest Mother’s Day in the history of all Mother’s Days. I know the other moms in the group would agree. To be able to get a reprieve sans kids is highly important for the physical and mental well being of all mothers everywhere. We need a reboot, dammit. Maybe there is something wrong with my children, but they literally would climb back up into my uterus if my cervix would dilate to 80. A couple days of breathing space is more than enough time all of us moms need to gather our bearings and re-enter motherhood like the bad ass Goddesses we are. In my very strong opinion, there is only one gift a mother should receive on Mother’s Day and that gift is a flight out of town.
I have been asked by many about the trip. Some couldn’t believe I chose to not be with my family on Mother’s Day. I LOL’d at their disapproval. I think perhaps those judgments were clouded with more than just disapproval. Jealous much? Let’s put it this way. Short of me doing 11 flip flops down the middle of my street to accurately convey my feelings about the whole experience, I decided to create a list. This list is of why I wholeheartedly believe abandoning your family for the single most important holiday of the entire year is the only way to celebrate the blessed event.
- Traveling through the airport with your single carry on and no children allows you to hold, not 1, but 2 bloody Marys before you board for take off.
- When the plane flies into some turbulence and you nearly soil your seat, you don’t have to “be strong” for your kids. Instead you can white knuckle grip your friend’s arm until the bumps stop and then order another screwdriver.
- When you have no one to tend to you can actually eat for yourself, as in enjoy a meal. Anyone else with kids feel like they haven’t had a meal that took less than 7 minutes to eat? Get out of town! Literally. Eat with reckless abandon and take your God given right to slow the F down. Little Susie is back home torturing daddy. You have nothing but time honey. Take it in and take it slow.
- When away from your family, some may say the distance makes the heart grow fonder. I on the other hand was like, “F it! I’m childless.” Everything seems so much easier and the mood just feels lighter. Even if your time away is only for 48 hours, 11 minutes and 43 seconds. But who is counting?
- Suddenly the words, “Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom!!!!!” get replaced with, “Would anyone like a mimosa?”
- Being away from your own kids encourages you to see all other kids in a more positive light. I found that my momentary break from my own children reminded me that I didn’t actually hate other peoples’ kids. In fact, it’s the polar opposite. I actually like them. Who knew?
- Waking up without children is guaranteeing you wake up on the “right side of the bed” every time you wake up. Even if your designated area of sleep is a deflated air mattress. NO ONE CARES. There isn’t an adolescent arm in your rib cage or a knee jabbing your vagina.
- As your trip wraps up and it is time to head home, you know there is a little family back home missing every minute you were gone and excited for your return so you can make those pancakes just so.
P.S. When I returned my kids told me it was the worst Mother’s Day they had ever had. My response. “Good thing you aren’t a mother!”
Love it. Live it. Share it.