The Nomad Mom Diary

I'm carrying around a LOT of baggage

Motherhood: some travel required

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Last weekend the kids and I buckled ourselves into the car and headed out to take Nomad Papa to the airport. He was leaving for an eight day trip to Argentina for “work”. (He says it is for WORK, but the glamorous jet-setting locales make me think that “work” is a more appropriate description.)

As we sat down to dinner at one of the airport pubs, Nomad Papa was trying to explain to me that he suffers a LOT when he has to go away for work. He was downright mopey as he described his solitary existence in the deathly quiet hotel room. He even got a bit teary as he waxed poetic about the hole we left in his heart when we were far away.

As a good wife, I wanted to be supportive and offer him a shoulder to cry upon, but there was no way in hell I could get past the laser-red lights shooting from my eyes and burning a hole in the crumpled tissue in his hand.

Do partners that travel have NO IDEA WHATSOEVER that the parent left behind to muddle through the long days and nights would give their left and right arm to sit in a quiet hotel room?

He had no idea.

So I tried to explain. Life is hard when he is gone. The kids act up. The little one wakes up calling for him at 1, 2 and 3am. Dinner options narrow down to what can be heated in a microwave or carried out from a restaurant and almost always get eaten stone cold. The chores pile up, the rules go out the window, and basically all hell breaks loose until he gets back and can help restore order. It is the complete opposite of fun.

He looked at me blankly and then said, “But I don’t like to go away.”

And I said back, “OMG, I’d give anything, ANYTHING to go away.”

In that moment, it became clear to me that the job of motherhood should require some travel. Instead of baby clothes and blankets, people should give us moms vouchers for airline tickets. After a few weeks/months/years of wiping butts and noses, even a weekend of sales presentations for a condo in Boca Raton sounds like a dream getaway, right?

Well, I can do us one better than that. How about the 1st ever Nomad Momapalooza???

What the heck is that? It is a two night weekend getaway for moms who need a BREAK from their families. I’m thinking early November sounds doable…and pretty much anywhere in Northern Europe would be fine….London, Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam. You guys can pick it and I’ll use my magical blog mojo (assuming I have any) to try and wrangle us a good deal on a place to stay. It will be like a giant slumber party, only with booze and bars and sleeping in without someone sticking your hand in a bowl of cold water.

Anyone interested in joining in? Comment here or over on facebook or twitter. Yippee!

The Nomad Momapalooza, what wine can't cure, the sisterhood can.

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Comments

  1. I’m so damned interested! My husband has no clue what it’s like when he’s away living it up for “work” in London. Wild he’s off at the West End or going to concerts in dodgy pubs in Camden. I’m at home, in a hovel awake for 20 hours a day. Oh, and working too. Fucker.

  2. Bitches behave. I’m in. Even if it means an overnight in a car, or the woods. As long as no children are in sight. Or to be heard.

  5. Hubs has 2 trips coming up- one in November. If the date works I WILL be in as we actually came to an understanding and I go on solo trips when he does. He’s actually pretty cool like that 🙂

  6. I’m raising my hand and mentally screaming, “Me too! Me too!”
    (But, we must promise not to let the fear of actually leaving the children alone with our partners stop us, right?)

  7. Momapalooza… I would give my left arm to join that party.

    They don’t realize that they fulfill a function and when they leave, they should arrange their own substitute man of the house. Don’t you think?

    I picture the conversation:
    HE: Honey, my business trip will be for ten days next month.
    SHE: Oh, and who did you find to play your role during that time?
    HE: My understudy is Lars, he is 24, six foot three and will be cooking, cleaning, lifting heavy things, driving kids around and giving you the hot salami in my stead.
    SHE: Excellent, have a nice trip dear.

    Now THAT would make things easier.