This might sound bad, but last week my husband took Sammy, along with the in-laws, for a beach holiday to Italy. They went for the week, but I could only join toward the end because I had to work. You might think I’d be bummed… missing out on long beach days, and mouth-watering Italian food, and my kid running around on the sand with a big grin on his face.
Well… in a way, I was. But in another way, I was ecstatic.
For three days, and three nights, I was free again. No baby monitor. No night wakes. No interrupted cups of tea. No one throwing food on the floor. No one having a tantrum because they wanted their pants on… and then another tantrum because now they wanted them off. I breakfasted alone. I made dinner and sipped wine and browsed through junk mail, peacefully alone.
Don’t get me wrong… I filled the time. Between work and house stuff I kept myself busy. But it was like there was no rush. So I took the time to use the good face cream after my shower. And I stayed up a few more minutes just because I could. And on the second evening, I even got out one of my many new puzzles that have been collecting dust on the shelf. And it doesn’t matter that I barely managed more than the edge, because it made me feel happy.
Sure, I felt pangs of sadness when I saw photos of Sam having the time of his life eating ice cream and being buried in the sand, but I wasn’t missing the whole holiday. And the time I got to myself, to realign, was well worth it.
On Thursday morning I packed up and drove to Italy to meet them… in torrential rain. Sadly, there wouldn’t be any beach time for me. But there was a little boy who was (almost) excited to see me. There was delicious Italian food, and ice cream and the joy of seeing Sammy enjoying his holiday. We strolled the streets of Lignano, and got to know the various playgrounds, and on the Sunday afternoon we even watched the Frecce Tricolori Air Show from the beach. It was a pretty good time, especially for Sammy, and that’s what matters.
an aussie in austria 