Marital Advice Monday *

Nearly a year and a half ago, I wrote this post all about when Andy and I went away for the weekend for our 40th birthdays. It was the first time in our parental life that we had together left the boys for two whole nights in a row. It was heaven. And we haven't done it since...until last Friday night.

News Flash! All that stuff I wrote about spending time away being important for a marriage and a soul? It's still there!  We're in a pretty meh place right now.  Compared to most, we're good and for that, I am eternally grateful.  But the day-to-day of winter/school/marriage/house/vitamin D deficient/job uncertainty/parenting still weighs and wears on us.

Last Friday, we shipped the kids off to Nana's where new toys, undivided attention, and late bedtimes awaited them, while we strolled off to Foxwoods for a 21-hour, anti-family vacation.  There, we didn't have deep discussions about our future; what school districts we need to look at, what needs to be done to our house and our debt ratio before we try and sell.  We didn't discuss the next phase of Andy's career or my education.

We had drinks in our hands within 10 minutes of checking in.  We ate appetizers for dinner at The Hard Rock Cafe.  We people-watched, played nickle slots and roulette, and joked about inconsequential things.  And you know what?  Underneath it all, our smiles are still there. 

And so, here is my advice to you:  Find a willing grandparent, aunt, uncle, friend, or mailman on whom you can foist your beloved children.  Leave extra food out for the cat.  Pack it up and head out of Dodge.  Everything will be there when you get back.  And maybe, just maybe, you'll get your groove back, too.


*title lovingly bastardized from my friend (and BlogHer '09 roomie) KC's hysterical Medical Advice Monday posts.

Impotent Rage

It's a balmy 17 degrees out with the wind whipping up to around 30 mph, we just returned home from picking up HRH at school and I. am. furious.

Not wanting to venture too far out in the cold and wind, Gremlin and I arrived at HRH's school 45 minutes before dismissal to get the last coveted parking spot in the drop-off/pick-up driveway. Mission accomplished, I turned onto the side street that spills out onto the main street, where the school is located. There is a crossing guard at the driveway exit and today, a police officer stationed at the main street.

As I waited in the line of traffic to make the right on to the main street, the wind blew over the construction barrel positioned at the entrance to the street. Traffic moved and I drove around the barrel, starting the right turn. The police officer raised his white-mittened hand toward the area I had just abandoned.

Obeying the usual traffic rules of the road, I completed the turn then came to a stop behind other (stopped) traffic. The officer approached and I lowered my window. He immediately bellowed into my face "When I say stop, you stop!" I responded with a dispassionate, "I apologize."

Is it done? Apparently not. He continues screaming "You see the hand? When it goes up, you stop!" He may have yelled something more, I can't remember what. It's so hard to see through the red haze of anger. Eventually, he went back to the job he is being paid to perform.

How dare he? I am not some juvie driving a stolen car, drunk or stoned, past curfew. I am a 41-year-old stay at home mother driving a crossover SUV with my two young boys in the car, at a school.

I am sorry you drew the short straw and got a traffic detail. I'm sorry it's cold as a gravedigger's ass. Maybe I'm even sorry that I misinterpreted your motion and didn't stop right away. But how dare you, HOW DARE YOU speak to me that way in front of my children?

I'm not going to pursue it any further. I'll keep my driving record the way it is. Instead, I had to explain the bad behavior of one whose job it is 'to protect and to serve' to the boys. And that the police - even this neanderthal - are still our friends.

Nearly Wordless Wednesday - Frightful

Heading into the drop-off line at HRH's school.