Moms on a boat, 2003
Whole shelves of chick lit are devoted to the topic of how motherhood can change you. I’ll add a story about my first pregnancy. On our “babymoon” (what a marketing hoax!), Deal Dad scuba dived while I, seven months pregnant, snorkeled contentedly off of the side of the boat. Accompanying us on the boat were several families. Without fail, the Dads were out snorkeling or diving with their kids while the Moms sat with their youngest on the boat. I became more and more enraged thinking about my next twenty years…Dad out there gallivanting with our older kids while I was stuck on the boat. By the time DD finished diving, I was in a rage. Apropos of nothing, I started bawling that I just couldn’t be “Mom on the boat!”
In the last eight years, “Mom on the Boat” has become shorthand for any holiday opportunities missed because of childcare. I used to get annoyed at my husband when he would point out gourmet restaurants or charming pubs in our path, because our dinner would invariably involve some form of pizza and our pre-schooler alarm clocks went off at 6AM no matter what time we went to bed! Finally I realized he was having MOB moments of his own. We both loved our new lives, but the ghosts of our scuba diving, pub crawling, pre-kid selves lingered.
Last year our vacation had Mom (and Dad) back on the boat, but also on a zipline, a tuk-tuk, and the back of a pickup truck in Guatemala. Turns out I haven’t given our kids enough credit: our four and seven year olds thrived in the new environment. Yes, we ate more pizza than I would have liked, and we still didn’t get out after 8PM, but looking back I’m amazed at how much we WERE able to do. Our four year old daughter discovered a love of worry dolls and papaya; our seven year old roasted marshmallows in a volcano and bargained for his own souvenirs in Spanish.
And, best of all, the whole trip was about the same price as a beach rental in Ocean City. Granted, no Boardwalk Fries has a franchise in Guatemala, but I’ve never seen dragonfruit margaritas at Mango Mikes. I came back from Guatemala not only rested, but energized. I’ve learned that it’s no longer necessary to plan trips FOR my kids, but to find places that excite us…and that the children will feed off of our energy. I’m happy to report that this Mom is finally off the boat for good!
How have your kids surprised you? Please share!
On Solo Travel, Mom Guilt, and Curveballs, 2017
My friend Joe wrote a must-read post about what you can’t control once you become a parent. This week fate dealt my family a curveball I’m having trouble figuring out how to process. No one is in mortal danger. I should start with that. But I’m hoping that some of you more experienced parents have some insight to share.
I’ve written before about the importance of solo travel. I stand by my beliefs, but this week have had them tested. The funny thing is that I wasn’t even traveling solo. I took Deal Girl on a trip, and during the trip Deal Kid broke a bone. A pretty big one. He’ll be okay in a few weeks and honestly is taking all of this better than I am.
I seriously considered coming home early with Deal Girl but we were on a press trip which meant cancelling would have been both expensive and difficult. Unfortunately, Deal Dad also had can’t miss work obligations. Something had to give.
And this time it was Deal Dad that took one for the team. And there’s my guilt. Not only am I feeling guilt that I wasn’t there when Deal Kid was injured, I’m also feeling guilt that I wasn’t the one who had to bend.
Deal Dad was in total control of the situation. I had no reason to believe that Deal Kid wasn’t getting the absolute best care.
But I still have guilt.
I know it’s totally irrational. In 2017 fathers are just as capable and as responsible as mothers.
I just can’t shake the feeling that I should have been there.
