We’ve been talking about the upcoming Memorial Day weekend for months now. A friend is getting married in Boston, and we are dumping the girls at my mom’s for two nights.
“Dumping” is perhaps too strong a word choice, but that’s exactly what we’re doing. With a few hugs and kisses, of course. And no turning back. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll be calling them for updates while we’re away. And do I feel guilty about having these sinful thoughts? Nope. Nada. Am I giddy about this weekend? You bet!
It’s been about three years since we last went away, just the two of us – hasn’t happened since before little Sophie was born. We’re even staying at a nice hotel. A very nice hotel, in fact. We’re going out to a bar on Friday night. I don’t remember the last time we went to a bar. We’re going to be surrounded by friends, who are adults, for two whole days.
The icing on the cake is that the weather, which has been notably crappy of late, is supposed to start improving this weekend. By the time we return home on Sunday afternoon, we should be hitting 80 degrees. Which means inaugurating our membership at the swim club, even though the water will probably be no more than 60 degrees (since it’s been so cold and rainy), and the only heating element is the sun’s rays. But I’m not going to let negative thoughts interfere with my joyful anticipation.
Because we’re going to be able to sleep LATE for two days in a row. Because we’re going to be able to stay out late. Because we’re not going to have to remind Sophie to go potty (she’s had only one little accident in over a week. Not bad) every few hours. We’re not going to have to listen to an incessant chorus from Chloe asking “What are we going to do today?” “Will you play with me?” “What are we doing next?” For two whole days. Whoopee!