That sounds mutually exclusive, but it's not. Think about it....as a mother, popular wisdom tells me that in order to be a good one I need to first take care of myself.
Case in point, over the holidays, the kids were off school for 19 days. That's a lot of quality time together with too much sugar and not enough to do. My kids headed to their Dad's for a weekend and my husband and his boys had a pizza, chicken wing, boy-movie Friday night that left our house looking like a garbage heap. I found myself in need of an escape on the Saturday as I couldn't imagine a repeat of me climbing into bed with earplugs and a pillow over my head only to awake the next day to a kitchen that looked like a Febreeze commercial.
At first I felt guilty for abandoning my husband, but I thought that was a much better solution than slamming around the house like a bear with a sore paw or hiding out at my all-female gym for the next 24 hours. So, I packed up the dog (love him as he doesn't watch tv, eat pizza or speak), headed for the Wendy's drivethrough for an apple pecan salad and a Diet Coke and then hit the open road. Think Thelma and Louise only my dog is hairier and I'm not a redhead. Alas, there was no Brad Pitt hitchikers either!
I drove to our cabin at Gleniffer Lake, 90 minutes north of Calgary. In summer, the resort is packed with families sitting on the deck of the Landing Restaurant, boating on the lake and swimming in the pool. But in winter, with the snow blanketing the golf course and the water in our phase shut off, there are only a handful of the 700 or so lots occupied.
I pulled in at 5 pm, just as the sun dipped towards the lake. I turned our outdoor Xmas lights on and let the dog roam free where he marked my neighbours' lawns and the green space as his territory. The Canada Geese have migrated south and the golfers too. There was one other lot in my phase with their Xmas lights on too, but no car in the driveway. I was finally alone!
I spent some time writing and some time snuggled on the couch with my dog's head in my lap as I watched reruns of the Big Bang Theory. I went to bed late and in the complete silence of a few acres of farmland on the dammed Red Deer River, I felt truly peaceful. I had left the city and a house full of dishes behind and I had nowhere to go and nothing to do. Of course it did occur to me that the poor saps in horror movies are usually alone in a secluded place when their brains are eaten by zombies, but I was too tired to care.
I awoke the next morning enveloped in the absence of sound- no traffic, no kids, no boats zipping about. As I made my breakfast, the whine of a plane wafted across the frozen water.
The dog and I headed out for a walk to the dog park at the edge of a ranch. In summer he runs straight for the lake and plunges in looking for sticks. But in winter, the sticks are hidden by snow and the lake is a little harder to wade into with abandon, so he charged at the horses leaning on the fence and I watched as they jumped from side to side not sure if they should be afraid or amused.
At noon, I packed up the cabin and headed back to town. It was time to get back to my husband and our family, our messy house and intensive schedule. I'd missed my husband, who is my usual roadtrip buddy, but I know he appreciates it when I take care of myself so that I can then take care of others. The dog doesn't care, he just wants to go back to the lake.
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