This may come as a surprise, but I have never left the girls alone. EVER. Well, not ever. Once in Barbados I was sent to the hospital with a miserable kidney stone that caused so much pain and agony, I was refused the opportunity to go home. That was one evening. The girls were small. Virginie has probably long forgotten about that time. Not so this one.
I have been warning the girls all week about my trip to surprise my sister on her 40th birthday, though I have not told them exactly where I am going knowing full well that they will want to go and then my going will be made all the more miserable because they are being left behind, and that Mommy will get to be with Auntie Shayboo, Uncle Jeffrey, and Grandma and Grandpa. They simply know that Mommy will be gone for almost two days, from Saturday afternoon until Monday morning and that “Papa is in charge.” Truth be told, I got my ticket at the last moment, when the airlines, realizing that the Super Bowl was not being held in the city to which I was travelling released all those $1010 tickets and re-priced them to something more reasonable. I cannot say more affordable at this time, because we are on a pretty tight budget and only FREE tickets are affordable right now, but the reduced fare was easier to justify.
Didier was well prepped for his role. I left out clothes for Lily to wear to school on Monday and emailed a list of phone numbers and important “facts.” Like who has the extra set of keys to our house. Where the closest hospital can be found. Recommendations for the sleeping arrangements –“Be prepared to get a tiny sliver of bed whilst the girls enjoy the full use of our king-sized mattress. “ Dinner recommendations. Pizza. No clothes were left for Virginie, but she’s easy. More than likely what she is wearing now, slept in, and wore the previous day, will be what she chooses. If not that, the orange sparkly dress hanging on a door hook also serves. Didier has been adequately trained in hair braiding and actually does a better job at brushing out their hair after a bath than I,since they even let him near their hair at all. It’s the novelty and that he is so loving and gentle with them, so honored to be allowed this intimate act. I can say only that I aim to get the knots out with the least amount of chatter.I have been given lots of advice about leaving the girls with the husband, some of which is sweet and funny and some, less so. “Let him see what’s it’s like to be on your own with the girls 24/7 for two days. That’ll show him.” And it will. And the job is tough. Those people can be ruthless and needy and terribly exhausting when tired or scared. But being with them should not be a punishment and watching him endure what I have been accustomed to for years gives me no pleasure.
“I will take pictures of the girls and send them to you.” After spending two days in the hospital after having Virginie, Lily arrived at the hospital looking like a street urchin, poor soul. Those bright brown eyes were barely visible under a dreadlocked matte of curls and her outfit looked strangely familiar. Like the one I’d last put her in when I’d left for the hospital. I know how it goes. But they will be no worse for the wear.
“Tell him to call us if he needs anything.” No chance. I think Didier’s got this. And I think he can do it better without the excitement of other people, other children, other energy. The hardest part will be at night when Virginie seeks me out for comfort and snuggles, when Lily eagerly awaits story time with funny voices and movements, and Mommy is not there. But “Dad” is great. He gives chocolate cake and movie time and popcorn and all the toys in the tub for bath time. He does not enforce strict clean up rules and lets them draw on 75 pieces of paper an hour instead of Mommy’s rationed three sheet minimum depending on intricacy and detailing of the drawing.I am happy to go and surprise my sister. She will be thrilled and turning forty and remaining fabulous is nothing to slouch about. But I already miss my people. Felt lost and alone in the airport allowed to get a snack for myself, go to the bathroom with no fanfare, go to the ticket counter to ask a question without an entourage. Watching some other poor soul chasing his two year old through the food court brought a smile to my face. Allowing a family of four to regroup before hurrying through security gave me peace.
My husband keeps texting me to tell me to have a good time, to drink, eat, stay up late, celebrate with my family. I will. But I miss my other family too.
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