Since Caroline was in diapers, Andy has been taking a mancation. In the early years, he, his dad, and his brother took a step back from the daily grind and into a fantasy land at a variety of baseball-themed camps for dudes. In more recent years, he and his dad friends have traveled to exciting destinations across the country, partaking in adult beverages, tasting the local food, enjoying adventure excursions (paragliding, fishing, paddle boarding) and savoring a few days and nights sans spouse and kids.
Since Caroline was in diapers, I, too, have spent time away from the spouse and kid(s)- for work. My memories of these trips mostly consist of stressful snowy drives down the eastern sea board with a bus load of college students, forgetting that one tiny rubber part of my breast pump and having to hand express in a hostel shower, evening networking events in a pair of heels I regretted wearing, and several super cold and very awkward visits to the Today Show involving peeing on myself, shouting over Olympic athletes' moms and an angry Ann Curry and a selfie.
While these travels brought a new professional skill set to my work tool kit, there was little personal savoring taking place and the word fantasy does not apply to any of these work adventures, despite them being taken without the spouse and kids. As a matter of fact, when the girls were babies and toddlers, I missed them so much on these work trips that I'd have to suck back tears that would catch me when I wasn't expecting them. When my mind wasn't missing the girls, my body was- leaking milk and that tightness you get in your chest when you are homesick. The savoring came when I was back at home, holding a baby in my arms.
After seeing Andy return home, tanned and relaxed from his mancations, I thought that maybe I should get on the family-free vacation bandwagon and partake in a little vaykay R&R with the ladies. This turned out to be easier said than done. I was able to travel once, with two mom friends, but it's not easy to get mom friends to travel. Moms don't have time. We are pregnant, having kids, raising kids, and juggling returns to work with no vacation time after using it all on maternity leave. When we do build the time back up, we save it for snow days and sick kid days and half days and conference days and oh, it didn't snow so the kids get an extra day off days. Moms that aren't working out of the home are pretty much on duty 24/7 kid care and would have to move mountains to find someone to offer childcare in their absence, and hopefully it's free child care because they are living off of one income.
Moms are also managing many schedules. We are the catalyst that gets the wheels in motion day in and day out. When you're a mom, going anywhere, whether it's the bank or Bermuda, requires as much time to plan as the actual time away from home. Before any of my work trips, I always had to be sure that I let everyone who has anything to do with my kids knew that Andy was in charge. This meant a) not to call me in an emergency or with a quick question or if a kid was sick, b) the kids would be late to everything and picked up last at the end of every day and c) they would be wearing tights (with no skirt) because Andy thinks tights are pants. Being away from home has always meant managing whatever is happening on the trip (and when you are traveling with college students in the winter, there's always something to manage) and distance managing the home. For example, one time I was in a big, corporate building in mid town Manhattan, greeting alummni for a panel I was later moderating for a group of students, while taking an "emergency" call from home because Andy couldn't find the dish strainer and thought someone had broken in to our house and stolen it. All went without a hitch- the panel was great and the dishes all dried after Andy looked under the sink and found the strainer.
On the other end of preparing for the time away is the wrath of the return. When the girls were babies, I truly did savor the very moment, upon my return, when we made physical contact. However, as the years passed, they were suspicious of my departures and I often got the cold shoulder when I returned home. My absence did not make their hearts grow fonder. My five day bus trip with 50 college students was a betrayal to my children. My responsibility to shepherd other people's kids for a few days clearly meant I didn't love my own children anymore. I'd put my suitcase down and all I'd want is a hug but all I got was a theatrical stone-faced glare while they crawled onto Daddy's lap.
Then there's the wrath from Andy. He has his own play to perform upon my return, which involves lots of sighs and a deep need to be thanked, applauded and congratulated for everything I do on a daily basis without any thanks, applause or congratulations. Yet, before a peace-keeping thanks (for WHAT?!) can even escape my lips, it's all Where in the World is Andy Marietta and that dude is M.I.A. As my post work trip penance, I won't schedule anything non-child related for at least two weeks.
"Hey, Melissa, wanna go out for a ladies night Friday?"
"Oh, I'm sorry! I just got back from a work trip."
"Ahh, gotcha, I'll check in with you in at the end of the month..."
After 12 years, I've tried a little WWAD and, in situations where I'm confronted with considering a family-free trip, I try to think, What Would Andy Do? I tried to carpe diem and went on vacation twice with just my mom. Yet, after being the one to book the flights, reserve the car, book the hotel, and then driving the car, navigating us around and being concerned about her general health and safety, I decided traveling with her is pretty much like traveling with the kids. We've had a excellent girls trip for the last two years and I look forward to many more vacations with Nana, Caro and Char.
Clearly, I'm unable to successfully vacation without my family and I am also unable to do so without being riddled with guilt and excessive self flagellation. Yet, I need time without them because taking a break from being a mom and wife makes me a better person. Therefore, I've found a happy medium. It's a travel experience that is both productive and yet also enjoyable. It's the work conference.
Work conferences are the bomb. It doesn't even matter where you go. Conference planners work hard to make sure conferences are in cool cities to entice the crowds. I don't even care where I go as long as I am alone.
Yes, the joy is that you get to travel alone, wander around from workshop to workshop without anyone wanting anything from you or asking for something from you. You can have stimulating conversation or not say a damn word all day. It can be just you and your thoughts, and your laminated name badge and colorful lanyard. You can grab freebies from vendors and stuff them in your conference tote bag and you don't have to give them to your kid before you decide whether you might have liked to keep it for yourself. You don't have to carry anyone else's bags or get them a snack or a drink or carry them when they're tired. You don't have to tell anyone to wash their hands after going to the bathroom. You can go to the sponsored dinner and walk your bad self right up to the bar, hand them your free drink ticket and sip that chardonnay like the rock star that you are. Then, as the party dwindles and the conference goers dissipate, you can disappear, too. You are not responsible for anything. Nobody even knows where you are really!You can go for a walk, or stop at a store on your way back to the hotel! The possibilities are endless!
Then, get this, you can order ROOM SERVICE and eat it ON THE BED in your pajamas while watching Pretty Woman. No Disney Channel for you. No SyFy. No smiling and nodding while listening to stories about recess and leaks in apartment building roofs. No making dinner. No eating after everyone else is done eating. No washing the dishes. No saying it's time for bed over and over and over. No asking one kid to get ready for bed. No asking the other kid to get ready for bed. No asking Andy to ask the kids to get ready for bed. You can you can eat your food ON THE BED and then, (I know!!!!) you can put the tray outside and SOMEONE JUST COMES AND TAKES IT AWAY! You can star fish on your big bed and fall asleep with the TV on, wake up and look out into the hallway and the tray will be GONE!!
Even when it's time to go home, the good times keep rolling. You only have to pack your own bag and you can leave the room without making the bed. Score!
Now that the kids are older, the post conference bliss lasts for at least an hour after I get home. I have a glazed, happy smile on my face while unpacking my conference tote bag, practically not even noticing that no laundry has been done or that the house looks like a fraternity moved in while I was away. The amount of pre-trip prep is less tedious, too. I don't have to tell Andy what to feed the kids, or (if you remember my first blog post ever) to feed the kids. Even the amount of distance management has decreased: if Andy loses the email I sent that outlines the kids' comings and goings for the week, he can call me or... he can just ask the kids!
I'm pretty easy to please. Going to a work conference is as close to a fantasy camp as I'll ever get and it's just the right amount of self indulgence and productivity that makes me feel like I had fun but not too much fun. I can't wait to see where my next conference takes me. Then again, it doesn't matter, as long as they have a big bed and room service.
Comments