When my kids were young, as I was waking at dawn to tap a vein for coffee, starting thereafter to attend to all of their needs, my body was busy, but my mind set adrift to the future. Wiping behinds, pouring milk, cleaning up toys and making snacks, I wondered what life would be like when they all were older and wearing their yoke of independence. I guess I had hoped that I would be different from all of the other moms in the world...my kids would grow into those idyllic kind you see on TV, and appreciate me for all that I do for them. Life is not an after school special and when the pre-teen-angst-axis shifts, (I literally just got chills) you contemplate how much time you wasted wondering, when you could have learned Farsi. You suddenly realize, you've hit the "hormonal highway to hell"...again.
At first I thought it was just exhaustion, maybe they were overtired or even coming down with a bug of some sort. Then the eye rolling began, followed by the lack of following directions, lastly the dramatic stare that stood for something or other...I fell for that trick the first time on my hormonal highway to hell. It was when I said, "Stop acting like a dip-shit," while it was under my breath, I heard it and I knew...we're there, again. It's all starting over again. While the view is different, it smells the same. I've done this once, I can do it again? That really shouldn't be a question as I have to do it three more times, but my inner monologue is a little judgy at times. Sometimes when I think of the hormonal road ahead, I wish I could develop a more atune case of Stockholm syndrome, at least until they're 18. While I will always love my kids, I don't always have to love my captors.
So, flushed with fear and loathing, not really sure if I'm referring to myself or my offspring, I head out armed and hopefully ready for the road ahead. Hey, what about a vacation? It's been years since we've had a vacation, even longer the kind where I don't have to do anything but just show up. Wouldn't it be great to take the kids on our honeymoon? That should have been a trick question, but we're making it one big family festivity. The packing began, much to the amusement of my husband, about 3 weeks ago. Living in the frozen tundra of the Midwest, when would these kids be needing shorts? Then came all of the questions...why do we have to pack that? Why would we need that? Why would we care what you pack, just do it for us. All the while, as I'm trying to maintain my composure, reminding myself that I will be sunning myself and doing absolutely nothing in the near future, I start having flashbacks. It's like PTSD, but a special kind only mothers have with whiny voices and arguments...THERE'S NO WHINING IN PARADISE?!?! I have been known to mention to my kids that they could go off and live with the Amish, but saying that in Mexico, no Bueno. Who am I kidding? I'll be grateful to just get through the airport.
I'm hoping the fresh warm air of some far off destination will change everyone's mindset, mannerisms and mood swings. I'm hoping some vitamin D, lack of electronics, beautiful scenery and possibly a very large cocktail with an umbrella in it, will at least once again align us where the winter season had us in mental fisticuffs at times. I'm excited and planning on taking a much needed detour from the hormonal highway to hell, anyone who isn't interested can swim home.
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