I have been away from my babies almost 10 days now. This is where I am supposed to tell you I miss them so much my heart aches. Sorry, to disappoint; of course I miss them, but do I "miss" them??? As in, John William's composes a movie symphony just for me running in awkward slow motion down a sandy beach so I can gather all 3 in my arms and cry moist tears into their lovely crisp ironed polo shirts? Look, no one (if they even fucking dare) would suggest I don't love my kids. They are what has made me who I am today, tenacious, driven and plain mean/cuddly if I have to.
Still, would I relish another week or two child free, no demands, no snot, no poo, no carpools, no shit. Are you thick or what????? Of course I do; will I miss the flight Sunday, of course not! I will resign myself to what I am responsibile for, and I will genuinely love having those wee boogers run into my arms (ok, 2 out of the 3, John will be pissed for 3 days...it's a rule). Look, us Mums love our kids, no question, but when we know they're safe and ok, we do need that time away. We need that time to remember who we are. We need to remember who we are as a grown woman, to feel life as a woman, and not be defined by our stretch marks.
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