The Writing Mamas Daily Blog

Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.

If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.

And for that, you are a goddess.

Thursday, September 04, 2008


Mommy Gets Some Time to Herself -- Yeah!!!

I’m leaving in two days. The thought of riding in my own passenger zone without hauling five hours’ worth of activities, snacks and diapers is enough to make me giddy. Just me, my book, and my iPod.

In any order I choose.

These next forty-eight hours will be focused on preparation for the trip; not packing, mind you, but advance meal preparation, directions to ballparks, soccer and piano schedules, phone numbers for parents, coaches, and our contractor. I know the odds of finding these homemade meals eaten when I return, with In-N-Out just over the bridge and Gaspare’s thin crust six blocks away.

They’ll miss me, but it will be an adventure.

Life on the wild side.

I feed that element, stocking up on all of their favorite snacks that will now be associated with Daddy-company rather than Mommy-away time. I will be the one laughing about the “walk a mile” comparison, but I’ll also be the one sneaking out of meetings to make sure everyone’s doing okay. Hourly. They’ll all rush to the phone the first time, breathlessly filling me in on their days. By the next call, they’ll decline the offer, not realizing I can hear them say, “No, that’s OK” when Kevin asks if they’d like to talk to Mom.

As soon as I leave, dinner and sleepover invitations will emerge from some secret signal fathers transmit when they’re left to fend for themselves. And while a part of me wants the family to experience a reality-based weekend, not one propped up by pre-made meals, printed lists, and back-to-back play dates, I realize the support team is rallying behind me, too.

I have an idea of what to expect when I return. The house will be in tatters. The kids will need baths. The mail will be stacked in a giant pile; voicemails will be blinking, unheard, and Cameron will be wearing the same outfit I left her in. They will be oh, so happy to see me, but they will be fine.

And if the actual results don’t support my “see what happens when I leave” scenario? That’s OK, too. It’s about time I visited my friend in Rochester.

By Kimberley Kwok \

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