My Mom-cation
I’m experiencing summer’s equivalent of being snowed in, which is infinitely better than its cold-weather counterpart. This past winter we experienced the snow-storm of a century, with nearly 2 1/2 feet of snow piled up on our back deck for almost a week. Dutch’s birthday, Christmas Eve, and Christmas plans were all subject to the daily drifts of snow, the dangerously deep icy trenches on the roads, the cancelled flights. And while it certainly demanded our flexibility and required us to let go of our plans and cherished traditions (no clam chowder at Uncle Tom’s on Christmas Eve), it forced us to make new ones and allowed us some sweet impromptu parties that wouldn’t have otherwise happened (hiking through the snow to the Baileys house for Sunday morning waffles in leiu of church). The conditions made everything an adventure. Inconvenient perhaps, but memories are made of such stuff. I loved it.
So this week, when temperatures have soared to record highs (my parents’ thermometer registered 109.6 today), and our apartment turned into a virtual sauna, I opted for an escape. I had been stubborn, insisting our apartment (without a/c) would be fine. But Tuesday morning, after a long, sweaty, sleepless night, I started to cave. Then I went into the closet (yes, Heidi still sleeps there) and found her drenched in sweat (poor baby), I decided enough was enough. I tossed our bathing suits, sunblock, women’s ministry materials and a novel I’ve been longing to read into the car and set out for the soothing sound (and air-conditioned interior) of Riversong.
Though I do have meetings and commitments peppering my week, I was able to spend all of today here without interruption. No phone calls (except a long and delightful catch-up conversation with my out-of-state brother which refreshed my soul), only a few quick necessary emails, and a whole day stretched before me with nothing but my Bible and my delicious novel. My novel, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society had been sitting on my nightstand, tucked under my Parenting Isn’t for Cowards book like a tiny morsel of chocolate hidden in the back of the cupboard, waiting for just the right indulgent moment. Today was my moment.
The kids were, of course, thrilled to play with Papa and Oma all day. Oma read books, Papa played trucks, and both gladly bounced Heidi and played peek-a-boo while I lounged, without a trace of guilt, by the pool, swimming cool refreshing laps during the few moments when I could stand to put down my book. I just finished the final page (Dawsey!), and sat savoring.
While I love to travel, for a mom of small children this is to me the finest idea of vacation on earth. My children are cool, safe, happy, and getting their regular naps. I have privacy, pool, air-conditioning, and the freedom to lounge in my bathing suit with unwashed hair and without a trace of makeup. A mom-cation at its best. I swear somehow in 24 hours my skin has improved, my mind has cleared, and the world seems to revolve less around our little suburbian hill we call home. Perhaps reading a story of beauty in the midst of concentration camps and war-time brutality gives one a little broader perspective. All I know is that I love to read. And a well-timed Mom-cation is balm for the soul. And fiction, stories, are some of the most powerful things on earth. Stories give hope, life, breath. Read! Oh, and I’m starting a book club. 🙂 More on that to come… I have a few more hours of Mom-cation to enjoy.