This weekend, I am accompanying Harrington to Marco Island for his bi-yearly work conference. I am totally excited about this because although he has to go to conferences and breakout sessions, it is more of a vacation for me in the sense that there is a beach, grownup time, and cocktail hour. Yes, I need to make small talk with people I don’t see very often, which is not my forte, but it is a small price to pay for three nights of uninterrupted sleep.
To be frank, I need this break. I have a lot going on. More than usual, and as soon as I have more deets, I’ll spill my guts. Promise. I’m just superstitious that way.
Due to an overload of intense activity coupled with my sleepless nights, I’ve been slipping. I have been making sloppy mistakes and my mind ism’t focused which indicates it is time for a break. And not going to Target at night by myself and sneak back after the kids are in bed kind of break. No. A *real* break which consists of a hotel, meals made by someone else other than me, and wine hour.
Here are some observations which lead me to think this break is long overdue:
- I am fantasize about spending time in a sound booth at the ear doctor so that I can get some peace and quiet.
- I am constantly having this inner monologue: “You can do this, Erin. You just have to do (insert task here). You. Can. Do. This.” This happens several times a day ranging from getting up in the morning to making lunch or doing laundry. You know, normal everyday stuff.
- At the pediatrician’s office while processing the news that Marie either has generalized pneumonia or undiagnosed asthma, I went into a full-blown panic at the checkout desk because I thought that I lost my wallet. The receptionist kindly pointed out that I was holding it under my arm.
- I feel pure rage when I am forced to deal with stall tactics during bedtime. I know Thomas will wake me in a few hours with some excuse to sleep in our bed which results in no one wakes up fully rested. This directly feeds the cycle of exhaustion and frustration.
- I am looking forward to *just* the plane ride because I will be able to do what I want (blog? read a book? take a nap? the possibilities are endless!) in peace and quiet while I eat the delicious Delta Airlines cookies which I do not have to share with anyone. And if I want wine instead of milk to drink with my cookies, I can. Because I am a break, damn it!
As excited as I am, I do feel that heavy, icky guilty feeling that I am leaving my kids behind (until they start bickering, in which case I can’t wait to leave . . . until they are all sweet and cuddly, and I am flooded with guilt again.) I write about these complicated feelings at The Detroit News MichMoms blog. I’d love to hear you weigh in so I know I’m not alone with this internal struggle.
How do you know it’s time for a break?