how we do it

Tonight I'm feeling exhausted, alone and grumpy and I can't help thinking about how in the world we do it. I know it's cliche. A mom's work is never done, yadda yadda. And I also know that I have it pretty darn awesome. My husband is generally home with me all the time to help out with Peanut. I only work part-time (though this will soon change...) and I don't have to pay for child care (again, this is a bit in flux). But, for now, I have it awesome. I'm on summer vacation. I get to hang out with my girl all day. We've taken trips, eaten well, played with a ton of friends, had tremendous house guests, yet I feel all itchy and angsty and can't figure it out.

I feel like a total loser for complaining. I think about my one friend who has been at home with her little love, alone, for a year. She's barely made it out to a sewing class and never asks for a break, never complains, never claims she's going totally batty being in the house tending to the needs of a little dynamo all the live long day. And then there's my other friend who works full time and brings her sweetie to the office with her, juggling, essentially, two full-time jobs every day. I mean, how insanely badass is that? Of course let's not forget my friend who leaves her lil hottie with a nanny so she can go help people deal with the fact their kid needs a liver transplant. Or is dying of some god awful disease. She's like dealing with the doctors and the hospital and the aunties and uncles and doing most of it in Spanish. Good God. That's easy. That's light. So I should really shut up and stop writing. I have an excellent life. Big old whiner am I.

But I know I'll feel better once I finish this post and drink this little cocktail I've put together. So I'll continue.

Part of my beef tonight is that my man has been off on yet another three day recreational extravaganza, this time on the Salmon River. This makes about three weeks since Eliana's been born of Jeff being away while I'm with her. The majority of this time has been to ski, hunt, climb or raft. And I'm glad my man is so passionate about the great outdoors. He lives life well and I love him for it.

But I guess my issue is this. Why can't I get my shit together and go have my own good time the way he does? He's given me the green light, tells me to make a plan with my girlfriends and just get out. And I talk a big game, get excited, start making little plans imagining the ease with which I'll go about life without Eliana all up in my stuff all the time...and then I realize I don't want to be without her. I don't want to leave her overnight. I don't want to be on vacation without her. I quite frankly can't really imagine a day in which I don't see her, hold her, laugh with her, snuggle her, feed her and so on and so forth. It sounds vacuous and weird and foreign to just leave her and think only of me. And it makes me scared because I really, really want to be able to separate enough from her to take care of myself to the full extent that I deserve to be taken care of.

I have this opportunity in a few weeks to do a full 36 hours or so in New York City with my sister and without Eliana. Hil and I have a history of summer forays in the city. We've spent many a hot afternoon walking for miles, yammering away, hoofing it through neighborhoods and eating wild foods, and always ending the day at a show that we've both waited years to see. We then hold hands, cry through all the harmony, and rush to our feet hoot hollering during the final curtain. As I write about our times together, I can just so picture us laughing, making funny inside jokes, stopping for dim sum, wandering into a Body Shop to spray some good smells before we drag our citified selves into the theatre. Sometimes we even shop right before the show in random, cheap stores. We then toss our shorts and tanks in a bag, dawn our twenty dollars worth of new duds, and wow all our friends with our crafty thriftiness. Oh I want to go! And I just read in the New Yorker today about all the shows I want to see. If I stay overnight, we can go to two!

So, friends, if anyone has any insight or thoughts, please feel free to encourage or discourage my little adventure. I think my milk supply will stay ample, though Eliana has been going a little bit nuts for the boob lately. Her new thing is dive bombing for it in the tub like a horny thirteen year old. But that's a whole other story.

So, in true Carrie Bradshaw fashion I ask, do we mama's take trips alone and sacrifice the pain of leaving the babes for the excitement of going solo?

Insights always welcome...