New Mummy Blog: A Night Away From The Kids (Expectation Versus Reality)
The baby is weaned. The toddler is sleeping through again, at last. Finally you’re ready for a night away. But the chances are, it won’t quite go as smoothly as you’d like.
We had a night away last weekend. This pretty much sums up how it panned out.
Expectation: Excitement. A whole night away with your other half; now that’s the sort of quality time you haven’t even had time to wish for since your pre-children days.
Reality: If only you could shake that feeling of fear. And dread. And guilt. Will your babies think you’ve abandoned them?
Piling on the guilt [Copyright: Yahoo/Claire Sparks]
Even after you’ve reached your grown up haven and are half way through your first G&T, you can’t shake that persistent feeling you’ve forgotten something really important.
You even start feeling really envious when a family turn up and the high chair they’re using makes you come over all nostalgic because it’s the same as the one you have at home.
Is it too soon to call home and check everything’s ok?
Expectation: You’ll be totally fine knowing they’re in the safe, experienced hands of their doting grandparents (they managed to keep you or your other half alive throughout your entire childhood after all).
Reality: You can’t help suspecting they might have forgotten a lot of the important stuff. Plus, haven’t there been an awful lot of advancements in parenting and child safety since you were little? You end up preparing for your mini break by spending hours writing a comprehensive list (14-page manual) of instructions for while you’re gone.
It probably won’t be read, but at least it’s distracting you from the niggling worry that your children will be having so much fun with the grandparents that they won’t even notice you’re gone.
Sure, you don’t want them to feel abandoned per se. But you’d still like to be missed.
Expectation: You’re going to sleep and sleep and sleep. Totally uninterrupted. All. Night. Long. And you’re going to have a lie in, followed by a long, leisurely breakfast without a Cheerio in sight.
[Copyright: Yahoo/Claire Sparks]
Reality: Dream on. Your brain is so conditioned to waking every hour to respond to cries/feed/check breathing/cuddle away nightmares/chase the monster from under the bed that one night away isn’t going to stop it.
And even though it feels like a 5.30am start to the day is torture at the hands of your offspring, when you aren’t being forced out of bed, one prised eyelid or dragged limb at a time, fate’s cruel twist is that you’ll find yourself wide awake of your own accord.
Expectation: You’ll try to drag your time off as long as possible. After all, who knows when it will happen again. You’ll plan to stop for lunch somewhere on the way home, blaming it on bad traffic when you finally get there to find two frazzled grandparents who were hoping to be off duty hours ago.
Reality: You’ll be desperate to get back, and end up cursing the bad traffic you were planning on inventing, when it turns into reality (serves you right), preventing you from getting home to those squidgy cuddles and smiling faces.
Expectation: 24 hours away won’t be nearly long enough. It’ll all be over far too soon and you’ll be back to reality, and bathtime, before you know it.
Reality: You have nothing to talk about other than the kids. You’re exhausted from two years of no sleep and end up going to bed at 10pm. You’ve never been happier to get home from a mini break in your life (apart from that one you went on with your university boyfriend when it was painfully clear to you both, and everyone else, that you should have left the relationship at university). You’ve never been more grateful for your little family, your happy home and your own bed.
Expectation: You’ll end the weekend rehearsing a conversation in your head to convince your other half that you should make the (expensive) adults-only boutique bolthole a (very) regular recurrence.
Reality: You find yourself thinking: only if you can take the kids next time. It’s just not the same without them.
