Last Saturday, for the first time since Theo and June were born, Dan and I slept somewhere that was not our house. Eighteen months. One night. You would think I was leaving for a semester abroad.
How it came up
Dan's coworker Marcus got married down in Monterey, and the wedding started at 4:30 with a reception that went late. Driving home afterward would have meant pulling into our driveway around 1 a.m., so it was either skip the reception or get a hotel. I said we would skip it. Dan gave me a look, and my mom, who comes up from San Jose every Thursday to help, overheard us on speakerphone and said, "I will stay over. Go."
That was six weeks ago. I spent most of those six weeks thinking of reasons to cancel.
The prep, which was probably too much
I wrote my mom a three-page document. Three pages. It had the nap schedule, bedtime order, which twin likes which cup, where the backup pacifiers were hidden, the pediatrician's number, the after-hours line, our neighbor's number, and a note that said "June will try to climb the bookshelf. Do not let June climb the bookshelf."
My mom raised three kids. She read the first page, folded it in half, and put it on the fridge. I think that was fair.
I also prepped two days of food, laid out pajamas for both kids, charged the monitor, and moved the car seats into her car in case she needed to drive anywhere. Dan watched all this and said, very gently, that we were going to be gone for twenty-two hours.
Leaving
We left at 12:30, right as they went down for their nap, because I did not think I could handle the goodbye. That worked for the twins. It did not work for me. I cried at the gas station on 880, not the pretty kind of cry either. Dan bought me an iced tea and did not say anything, which was the right call.
By the time we hit Gilroy, I was fine. By Salinas, I was laughing. Something happened somewhere on that drive where I remembered I used to be a person who went places.
The actual night
The wedding was lovely. I wore a dress that did not have a spit-up stain on it. I ate a full plate of food while it was still warm, and I did not cut anyone else's chicken into tiny squares. Dan and I danced to two slow songs and I remembered that I really like him, which is easy to forget when most of our conversations are about who is picking up diapers.
I checked the monitor app four times during the reception. My mom texted a photo of both kids asleep at 7:40 with the caption "Done. Go have fun." That text did more for me than a glass of wine.
Back at the hotel, I set an alarm for 6:30 out of habit. Then I turned it off. I slept until 8:15. I cannot describe what that felt like, except that I woke up and did not know where I was for a second, and then I did, and I just lay there.
What I learned
- The kids were fine. June did try to climb the bookshelf. My mom handled it. Theo refused his dinner and then ate a banana and half her toast. Nobody was scarred.
- I needed it more than I realized. I did not know how tired I was until I was not surrounded by the things that make me tired.
- Short and close is a good first step. Two hours away, one night, with someone the kids see every week. I do not think I could have done a weekend in another state.
- The guilt shows up anyway. I felt guilty leaving and a little guilty for how much I enjoyed it. I am trying to let both of those feelings be there without letting them decide things for me.
Coming home
When we walked in around 2:00 on Sunday, June looked up from her blocks, said "Mama," and went right back to her blocks. Theo ran over and hugged my knees for a good ten seconds. My mom had cleaned my kitchen, which was a little embarrassing and also incredibly kind.
I would do it again. Maybe not next month. But sometime before they turn two, I think Dan and I are due for another night where we finish a sentence.
