This is not going to be another complaining post but an explaining post. I was thinking of calling it, why I never go anywhere. As you may know I have four kids. I love being a Mom more than anything. I love being with my kids, listening to them and doing the millions of things that I do for them. O.K., so sometimes it’s a bit much for me. I mean this parenting business just goes on and on and on. I have to announce when I go to the bathroom or our house immediately goes on amber alert soon to be followed by a full scale search and rescue mission. It seems that I am most needed whenever I get a phone call. I have been known to complete conversations while hiding in a closet.
I will on occasion make the drive to the big city by myself for a quick get away but that seems to include something like Passover shopping or delivering camp luggage to the drop off site. Papa Bear and I almost never go away together. Who would stay with the kids if we did?
Last spring we decided to take a huge leap, I would accompany him on a conference to Barcelona for five nights, four days. There were many reasons for this trip not the least of them being our 20th anniversary. I found and booked a highly responsible baby-sitter and began to cook all of the meals that would be needed in our absence. I tried to put all of my trepidation on hold. As the departure day drew nearer I privately hoped for something benign to cause the cancellation of my trip. It didn’t happen. I was forced to suck it up and go.
The flight, thankfully was uneventful. I don’t like flying, another reason I felt that I had to go. The seats were close, but I managed just fine. I did not have the screaming fit that I always fear I will have when I’m on a plane. How do you manage to come back from one of those? Being the crazy lady is only appealing in books set in the southern U.S.
We had a stop over in Paris. Is it possible to fall in love with an airport? I don’t eat when I fly, but if I did that would be the place to do it. There was an Illy coffee shop. I will do almost anything for Illy coffee. The Patisserie was gorgeous. There was another shop selling the most beautiful madeleines. I thought of Proust and knew that I had to bring my family home some madeleines to taste. I went to the counter and saw the price. No madeleines this trip, I’d rather buy jewelry. I found the public washroom. The toilet bowls were Villeroy and Boche! Is it weird to be in love with a country because of a toilet bowl?
The airport did it for me, this was going to be a wonderful trip. My kids were in good hands, I would have my husband’s undivided attention. The plane ride was a piece of cake. I was finally getting to see a bit of Europe. Less than one day in and everything was moving along even better than I could have hoped. I was silly to be such a worrier, what could go wrong?…