This weekend is supposed to be our annual Father’s Day camping trip, but we canceled it. So I’m sitting here fretting over it, even though I KNOW it was the right thing to do.
I have to pee. A lot. Like, a lot– a lot. I got home from playgroup (without kids again!) an hour ago, and I’ve gone to the bathroom 4 times. So one day I realized the logistics of this whole Peeing Situation + camping. We’ve stayed at this same campsite at the same campground for years, so I know exactly the set-up. And the set-up includes a nice bathhouse… a nice bathhouse which is located pretty far from our site. We usually take at least 1 adult bike among us, so that when we need to go we can just hop on and ride over. We also bring all of the kids’ bikes (for actual biking purposes), so they also ride their bikes to the bathroom.
HOWEVER. Fetus Rules say no biking. Especially for my clumsy, hasn’t-been-on-a-bike-since-last-September ass. And walking causes contractions, and contractions make me feel like I have to pee. So I would be doing a ton of walking, a ton of contracting, and a ton of wondering if I really DO need to pee. All just because I have to walk back and forth to (ironically!) the bathroom every .05 seconds.
Oh, yes, I DID consider taking a camp chair and a book and just hanging out near the shitter all day (sounds kind of lovely, actually), until I remembered that camp chairs make my back hurt and my… pelvic bone– or something in that general area– throb. Not so lovely after all.
So for that and a plethora of other pregnacy-related
whining woes, we decided not to go. And for a variety of other (boring) reasons, the others are not going camping either. Instead we’re going to host everyone here tomorrow, and one of the families is staying overnight, so that should be fun. We might even put up a tent for the kids to sleep in, so they don’t feel so cheated.
Speaking of children, David is on his way to get them right now. They should be home around dinner time. This week without them started off really hard– I missed them terribly– but strangely got easier as the week went on. It’s like, at first, I had NO IDEA how to function without the girls around. I felt lost, and like I was suffering from a LOSS. But then, slowly, I learned how to approach each day with only David’s and my needs in mind, and then I didn’t miss the girls so much anymore. I also think being alone with David also took some getting used to. Like, oh yes, THIS is what it’s like for us to be alone together.
[The girls, for their part, were eager to go– not a tear in sight– and have been having a blast all week. When I talk to them they only want to know 1. what the weather is like (true Minnesotans!*) and 2. what Posie the cat is doing. There hasn’t been a trace of homesickness from any of them.]
David and I had to re-learn how to be together, which seems kind of sad when I type it out like that. However, our life WITH the kids is wonderful (USUALLY), and we enjoy being parents and being a family. And I guess that means that sometimes we forget what it’s like to just be a couple, just us. It was an awesome process to rediscover how to BE together, and one that wouldn’t have happened if the girls were only away for a few days instead of nine days (OMFG. My girls have been away for NINE days!). Not that I would ever– EVAR– want to live our lives without our children, but I DO want to remember how to be a couple with David too.
So this was an unexpected… ah, lesson, I guess, for lack of a better word, from this past week. I don’t think I knew what to expect when the girls left, but the things I envisioned had more to do with long To Do lists being checked off and lazy mornings sleeping in. I also knew I’d appreciate my girls more when they returned. It’s not that I didn’t think about spending quality time with David… but the first few days especially, I never would have realized that we were capable of finding a new, different, not-centered-around-kids rhythm to our days. What a great discovery!
So anyway. Not camping. Girls coming home today. The end.
*When I say talking about the weather is a “true Minnesotan” thing to do, I realize that I have no idea if that’s accurate. Or is it one of those things that EVERYONE in EVERY STATE does, all claiming to be a “true Idahoan” or a “true New Yorker”, all of us thinking that weather talk is “truly unique” to our locality?
P.S. I have to admit I’m a
leeetle afraid TERRIFIED of what the fall-out is going to be like as the kids adjust to life at home again. No cheetos and donuts diet, no All Fun All the Time grandparents around… plus a house full of people 18 hours after they arrive home. Plus, they’re probably exhausted…