I love my kids, I do, but wow, my youngest has hit the terrible two’s, her birthday is actually the day this will post, the 20th. I can’t wait 'til next year; I remember 3 being so much fun, right now that is the only light I have.



I’m writing this a few weeks early (5/5/11) because of a trip I’m taking, and I felt inspired today because I am so stressed out, going so insane and in need of a much needed time out. To the point of wanting to scream and cry and lock myself in my closet…with my children’s Easter baskets.



My days start around 6:30 am with a screaming toddler and end hopefully around midnight if everyone goes to bed and I have gotten chores done and hopefully some writing on my next book… which feeling inspired when I am absolutely drained, annoyed and well, pissed off? Yeah that’s gonna happen! So needless to say I am exhausted, I am cranky, I yell too much, and stand in front of my refrigerator often looking for something…anything to make me feel better. But since I have been watching my sugar intake sadly there is nothing good in my fridge (that would constitute binging on, at least).



Here is my dilemma, I need a break so badly, I want one so badly, I want to sleep in until noon and be awakened by a room service person bringing me a veggie omelet with a bran muffin (wow I am getting so old) I just realized how lame my “dream” is, bran muffin, sheesh! I remember the days before I had kids, Awe College, scheduling classes to start after 10am, sitting at the Starbucks as I leisurely read my assigned work. Staying up late, cleaning and having things stay tidy…oh sorry I got lost for a minute there. Anyhow where was I? Oh yes - I’m desperate for a break!



When the time comes for me to take one though, I feel horribly guilty and frankly - terrified. What if something happens to the kids? What if something happens to Dave and me? What if there is the earth quake that everyone says there is going to be, and I am on another continent enjoying an adult beverage? And now thanks to recent events, what if there is a terrorist on my plane and I go down and become a flight number?



I know these thoughts are irrational, but I also know that my trips are always tainted with my worry. We leave for Cancun in a week, I am beyond excited, especially after a day like today, but I know the night before we leave I will think of every excuse not to go, (I have already checked the cancellation insurance, yeah, it’s pretty specific about injuries and such, so that probably won’t work). But seriously I will be in tears as the flight attendant tells me where the emergency exits are. I will be profiling every single person on the aircraft, (not for if they may be carrying a bomb, but as to how easily I can knock them over and beat them out the emergency exits) and my stomach will be in knots the entire flight, which will in turn make matters worse because I swear to God that I WILL be the person that gets sucked into the airplane toilet and so I’m afraid to use them.



MY POOR HUSBAND.



Here’s the problem, I bitch, I wine, I complain… “I need a break; you get to go to work! You get a break; you get to miss the kids! You get adult time! All I do is dishes and diapers and I vacuum and then YOU walk in with dirty boots!” So he says, “Okay Merry Christmas YOU are getting a break, we’re going to Cancun!” I cry, get excited, start planning ridiculous expeditions, and then as the date approaches I start to freak out again, “We didn’t get our Will done! What if Madi loses her first tooth while we are gone? Will your parents know to save the tooth? What if our plane goes down? What if they get sick, I can’t leave a sick kid and go on vacation. What type of a mother am I that I want a break from my own kids?? Blah blah blah…crying...blah blah…more ridiculous crying, wailing now...blah blah!”



Again, MY POOR HUSBAND.



He can’t win, he tries, but he can’t because I am officially psycho! This man tries so hard, he gets up every morning before everyone else, he tip toes around the house as to not wake the kids, or I, God bless him. Goes to work where he gets yelled at by co-workers or the public, apologizes all day long for stuff that he didn’t do, most days comes home for lunch so I can get five minutes to myself, goes back to work, then somehow gets in his truck comes home to a house of crazy. He then will, a lot of nights, make dinner, play with the kids, get yelled at for not taking his work boots off, do bath time, cut toe nails, read bedtime stories, and then get up five times to tell the kids to go to bed because I am dead on the couch. Then he watches a show or two, falls asleep on the couch, is rudely awakened when it’s time to get in bed, and finally falls asleep, just in time for his alarm to go off again. I seriously don’t know how he does it.



But I’m so glad he does.



I know he needs this trip as much, if not more than I do. I know he has earned it, me - not so much. So, this week I am going to bite my tongue when all my crazy worries fill my brain, I am going to try to take a sedative before the flight so I won’t panic and cry the entire time, and I will force myself to enjoy my time, our time.



Sure I feel selfish taking time away from the kids, but something I do know: it feels so good to miss them! It feels so good to wonder what they are doing, it feels so good to be sitting over a long and relaxing dinner and end up talking about our kids.



It feels good to WANT to be home.



So if you need a break, take one. Don’t feel guilty or afraid, whatever is going to happen…is gonna happen. But if we don’t take care of ourselves and our relationships, they’ll burn out. I know that for Dave and I, our relationship has to be number one, as much as I know I’ll get grief for saying it, the kids sometimes have to come second, because if mama and dada aren’t happy, then no one is happy. Even if it is one night away, just locally, take it, if the opportunity comes - seize it! In the long run, your kids will be happy you did, your kids will be happy you valued yourself and your relationships. It may take years for this to happen, but one day they’ll be thankful that their mother isn’t insane.



I can happily say my children's Easter candy has survived another day, no guarantees for tomorrow though.