Mommy Camp 2013

Mark went off to sleep away camp this week, and I enjoyed it every minute of it.

Day 1: The kid is gone. The sass is gone.

"You look so much calmer already," my sister-in-law observes. It's true, I feel like my blood pressure's dropped 50 points.

Day 2: I wake to an eerily quiet house, the silence finally broken by maniacal laughter. It takes me a full three minutes to realize it's coming from me.

"Time to get up!" I say, then I do. Nobody pulls the covers over their head or ignores me. I say what has to be done, and it. is. DONE. I could get used to this.

I shower, make breakfast and am sitting at my computer, working, 20 minutes later, without a single argument (I completely forgot that's how mornings can be).

With the kid around, this process takes a good hour and a half. I wonder what the heck he does with all that time each day.

Day 3: This morning, I walk into Mark's room, and in a stern voice, say "Make your bed." Nobody snarls back that "It DOESN'T MATTER." I look at the bed, which is already made, and walk away. If anyone saw the weirdly contented smile on my face, they might wonder about my sanity.

Day 4: I do miss Mark, but the cats miss him more. Each day, they pounce on him, smacking him around, nagging for food. I sleep with my door closed, so now they've taken up residence just outside, waiting for me to emerge. When I do, they scramble down the hall furiously, tripping me or steering me into the kitchen toward their dishes.

Fernando misses Mark the most. I act as a substitute play mate, but he's almost angry when I play--he just bites my arm and runs away. Fernando is not happy that I'm here and Mark's not.

Day 5: I'm tired, but it's a different kind of tired. Usually, by Thursday morning, I'm emotionally worn out, having spent the week debating with the little lawyer (everything's a case to be argued). But today, I'm physically worn out. I've been out every night this week, trying to pack a year's worth of social activities into one week. I've seen two movies, one concert in the park, had three dinners with friends.

Since Mark's not around, there are no nightly blood sugar checks, and I should be in bed early. But I'm not--instead, I'm like a teenager away at college for the first time, staying up as late as I want, just because I can. Unfortunately, I'm not really a college kid, I'm actually a grownup with a real job that starts early in the morning, and I now have the bags under my eyes to prove it.

And I still have two more nights to go! I contemplate, briefly, staying home tonight but dismiss the idea immediately. It's book club night, and for once, that doesn't require a trip to the ATM to pay a babysitter. I can do this--weekends were made for sleep!

Day 6: Still scouring the camp Facebook page, but no photos of Mark. I know he's having a great time up there, and I can't wait to see him tomorrow.

I had a sort of epiphany today. I told everyone that I'm on a mommy vacation, which isn't really true. Vacation means you go away and stop worrying about all the stuff in your everyday life.

I realized today I'm not on vacation, I'm just on Pause. You know, like when you're watching TV, but you need a snack, or a bathroom break--you don't turn the TV off, you just press Pause.

That's what happened to me. None of my maternal duties or instincts went away while Mark was gone--I still worried that he was warm enough at night, eating enough, brushing his teeth. I worried if his blood sugars were in range, or if he had any super highs or lows. I never stopped worrying, I just took a little break.

Don't get me wrong, I've really enjoyed the break. Tomorrow I resume my mommy chores like cooking, cleaning and driving that kid around. I'm not looking forward to any of that. But I am looking forward to the actual kid. I miss that little rascal--I miss his laugh, his smile, his sassy (and funny) little self.

I've certainly enjoyed Pause--but I'm equally excited to hit Play once again.