We’re going away this weekend to my sister’s. I should be excited, right? Truthfully, I’m not that into weekends away. I feel like I fall behind. Last time I went away, I took Monday off to get stuff done like gardening and food shopping because it stressed me out so much not having everything set up for the week. This weekend is a long weekend and we’re coming back on Sunday but still. I noticed the arugula is browning this morning and I need to thin it out. I have to buy a birthday present for my nephew and pack before we go. I’ll have to take Friday off for the drive up. I think I’m turning into my mother. I would prefer to be at home, in my own yard, on my own routine. Is that awful?

Last summer we spent a week at the cape with family and I burst into tears one night. Z wasn’t sleeping, my husband seemed negative, it just seemed hard. My mother said vacation with children is just work in a different place. I guess that’s how I feel going away this weekend. Plus, there will be a party which causes social anxiety for me. I won’t know anyone and that’s always hard for me.

What about you? Are you a homebody too? Do you take lots of weekends away? How do your kids adjust to the change in routine?

Spring Air

Last nigth when I took out the garbage I could smell spring in the air. A cool breeze with just a hint of warmth. Next door lives a family who runs a food truck. I could hear their voices, happier and rowdier then usual as they packed up the truck. The lights illuminated the multi-colored snack wrappers so they glowed against the darkening sky. The full moon lit up the rest of the street and I took a moment to breathe in the first air of spring.

The Three Musketeers

Yesterday, Papa took Z to visit some relatives and eat pupusas so I went home in the afternoon to an empty house. Perfect me time, right? Knitting, reading, maybe a little junk tv.


I couldn’t figure out what to do. I did a little housework, emptied the dishwasher, changed some sheets, picked up, and then I still had time on my hands. I couldn’t focus. The house felt so empty in the late afternoon. I just wasn’t used to having such a stretch of time to myself. Not having to make dinner for anyone. No one to play with! Eventually, I settled into a Real Housewives of Atlanta episode on my computer and worked on finishing a mitten. And then I read for a little bit, but it was still a little lonely. What did I used to do after work? I wondered. When I was single, or even just part of a couple? Napped, maybe? Watched crappy tv? I really didn’t remember.

Papa called and said he and Z were coming home early and I was relieved.

“I was feeling a little lonely,” I said.

“Yeah, I think we missed you too.” Papa replied.

I smiled. We’ve become such a family unit. The Three Musketeers. We don’t often get time all together because Papa often works weekends and nights. (He’s a chef.) But we aren’t whole without the third. Isn’t it funny how that happens? I’m not sure if it’s good or bad. Or a little good and a little bad together probably.

That night when we were putting Z to bed after he showed us his impression of a pig, (It involved oinking and dancing, you had to be there.) Z held out his arms.

“Mama, Papa, hug?”

And we had a family hug. The Three Musketeers.