Moms Gone Wild 2011
May 12th, 2011
by Alexis Novak
I am always with my small children. Some call this fortunate. Some call it stifling. Depending on the moment, I’m straddling the fence. I do know that my Separation Anxiety when apart from my kids, accompanied by the guilt that rarely lets up, results in my frequent babysitter check-ins via text message that border on obsessive. I am over-protective but pragmatic. I understand that it’s healthy to be apart from them, to wonder who I am and what I want and marvel at the ease of sleeping in late even if only for two mornings. It was time. To celebrate my third year of motherhood I was ready for a first- Moms Gone (Slightly) Wild Weekend 2011.
The five of us met in a prenatal yoga class when we were all pregnant with our first children. Our Eastern-European instructor pushed us to do squats on the wall with the giant exercise balls supporting our lower backs as she purred “Gourrrrrrrgeeeoussssssss” to us, eliciting a snicker from the growing pregos who felt anything but. We bitched about husband smells, swelling feet, working while pregnant and the size of our asses. Then months later, when all of our beautiful babes were finally born, we took turns hosting weekly play dates. We ran together at Baby Boot Camp. We nursed together at the new mom’s support group at the hospital. Everyone told us we were lucky to have this little group. I didn’t think of it that way. It was just what we did. You could always find someone that wanted to hang and no one got mad when you cancelled last minute because your baby suddenly began projectile vomiting.
Then two moms moved away. Three moms had another child. No one got together anymore and I realized I missed our sisterhood. Motherhood can be isolating and lonely.
Someone started a Facebook message about getting away for a few days. No kids. No husbands. I was in…mostly. I bought the tickets and we reserved rooms. A few times I almost chickened out. My hesitation was my toddler who tells me every time I get home after leaving her, “I was so sad when you left me. I cried at the door for a long time” and then imitates how she cried by moaning and making pained faces. She then begs me not to leave her again. My husband calls this manipulation. I know, I told him, but damn, she is good at what she does.
My weekend was a chick-fest blast. A week later it is a happy blur of massages, a sunset cruise, flip flop shopping, snarfing sushi, laughing so hard my abs hurt, and drinking wine in the pool. Together again. I didn’t feel guilty about having stupid buzzed fun with my girlfriends while my children were tucked snuggly in their beds and my very capable husband was at the helm. I shouldn’t feel guilty when I leave them in caring hands to go to the gym to be a more balanced caregiver. And since my kids survived their mom-free weekend, I definitely will not feel guilty now when my daughter imitates her crying face that looks exactly like Edvard Munch’s “The Scream”. I’m teaching her how to cope in my absence, a skill she will need. Separate but together, as moms and their children forever are.
My daughters will always be close to me but every once in a while, I need to hop on a plane with my friends to search for my girl self again.
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Written by Alexis Novak • 4 Comments
Tanya Thu, May 12, 1:13pm