So, if you know me, you know that last Wednesday I warped back to 1999 (1989), flew to Atlanta to see my best friend and her and I (along with two others) enjoyed three hours of the Backstreet Boys and the New Kids on the Block --- live.
There was much screaming, crying, jumping up and down with sheer excitement and disbelief. The next day I sounded like a man. But it was so worth it to see Nick Carter in all his glory.
I spent the next two days in Atlanta. I slept in till ten. I had breakfast in bed. I enjoyed grown-up (and some not-so grown up) conversations, I watched full episodes of Bones. I went shopping. I ate sushi, I got my nose pierced (life long dream!)...did I mention I got to sleep in??
Saturday morning, after sprinting barefooted through the Atlanta airport to catch my plane, I landed in San Antonio and my mom (with my toddler in tow), picked me up from the airport.
Before my bed that night, my toddler had........
-attempted to clean the carpet with toothpaste
-thrown his macaroni on the floor and stepped in it
-decided to use the backyard as a bathroom -- only he didn't pee
There was spilt apple juice, the reading of "Ping" at least eight times, a couple of tantrums, Thomas the train derailed, inability to find a documentary about bears and settling for bigfoot -- which later is partly the cause of a restless night, falls, bumps, bruises.....
Then night came and he nursed all. night. long.
I woke up Sunday morning a little bit exhausted, missing my fluffy hotel bed and uninterrupted breakfast.
But how could I complain when that sweet little toddler grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me and then said "Momma, I love you." ???
You see, my reality isn't the most glamourous or pretty reality available. I deal with poop on a regular basis, there is all manner of food/food items smashed into crevices, carpet and any other small area it *might* fit. Before my recent trip, I can't remember the last time I slept all night, or even longer than a four hour stretch without waking to tend to a certain someone.
My outings are usually the grocery store, paying bills....I rarely go shopping for clothes because between a toddler who wants to touch everything and a husband who thinks he's allergic to shopping, there really aren't many opportunities to go. I don't normally finish a cup of coffee because I get interrupted, set it down and then forget about it.
While on vacation, I remembered the time in my life when the Backstreet Boys were a huge part of my world. Earlier than that, the New Kids on the Block were a big distraction (as much of a distraction as one can have when they are 5, 6 and 7). This past week, I relived that. My only concern this past week was making sure that I waved at Nick Carter and getting glitter on everything. (Yes, everything. There is glitter in my wallet.) I enjoyed the "freedom" and no responsibilities. I'm not going to lie...I loved not having to share my food with a toddler who does a fantastic impression of a baby bird. ;) But it was also a good reminder of what my life is now.
I loved my trip, but my heart ached to get back to my toddler and my husband, to my wife and mommy hat.
Breaks and vacations are nice, but I realized this week just how empty my reality would be without my own "boy" and my own "kid". I love them both so much.
And now I must go tend to the toddler who just opened the coin jar and sent pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters flying down the stairs.