A Weekend Tryst

This weekend turned out to be a great and relaxing weekend.  Somewhat relaxing.  One can only expect a small measure of relaxedness when the kids are still around.  Actually, there is no measure of relaxedness when the kids are around.  We just happened to get away for a few hours.

We woke up Saturday morning as usual; the kids were jumping on us and I was begging, pleading and cajoling Mike to let me sleep in.  Before you think of me as a lazy Saturday morning sloth, take note that my youngest, adorable as he is, has no concept of sleeping through the night.  Or for more than a few hours at a time for that matter.  Friday was a particularly bad night and it felt like I was up and down like a porn star’s privates…which I guess would be more up than down.  Which I was.  But there was nothing exciting about my night.  Unless you count tripping over the dog in the dark and almost kissing the wall.  It’s starting to sound more and more like a porn after all, especially when you consider how often I was whipping out my boobs.  But that was to get my little nocturnal nighthawk back to sleep.  Yup, definitely not nearly as exciting a night unless my name was Candy Cane and I was a star.

Back on track here.  Mike, being the great guy that he is, let me snooze for another 45 minutes.  And it was almost uninteruppted; I only had to contend with one kid sneaking up to see me, followed my Mike’s inevitable “get down from there and let your mom sleep!”  It’s all part of the sleep-in ceremony, but it usually happens at least two or three times so I count myself lucky.

Once I wake up, Mike asks if I want to go see his parents for the day.  That sounds nice, we haven’t been there in a while and they celebrated their 32nd anniversary this week, which is a great feat if you ask me.  On top of this, my father-in-law called to tell me he finished my cupboards and I would soon be the proud new owner of a set of oak drawers for my kitchen.  All I had to do was pick out the stain.  The prospect of seeing them excited me greatly, and while I recognize how entirely pathetic it is that I am so pumped over cupboards, I refuse to be ashamed of this.  And let me tell ya, they’re beautiful.

It’s always hectic before we leave for Mike’s parents, especially since we were planning to spend the night and had to pack clothes for the lot of us, but we finally got on the road.  We threw on a read-along story for the kids and had a great conversation during the hour long ride, punctuated only by Hayden’s inquiry of “Are we at Nan and Pops now?” at ten minute intervals.

When Mike called his parents to let them know that we were coming, he managed to score us a few hours respite to head off to the movies while they watched the kids.  We decided to hit a matinee so into town we went.  Mike wanted to see Goon, some hockey movie that is hoping to rival Slap Shot.  By the time I realized this, it was too late to convince him to watch something sweet and sappy and girly.  I guess marriage is about give and take, although I’m usually happier being the one to take.

Since the movie opened on Friday, Mike thought it best we get there early to ensure a decent seat.  We arrived 45 minutes before showtime and entered the theatre only to discover there was not a soul around.  We weren’t about to complain.  We parked our buts and had our second conversation of the day, this one completely uninterrupted.  This is so unheard of that we were not sure how to handle ourselves, and we lapsed into a few bouts of blissful silence, both of us enjoying the clean and crisp feel of it.

Soon the theatre filled and we were assaulted by nearly two hours of hockey and blood and fistfights.  But it was funny and I enjoyed it enough to deem me entertained.  Maybe not $9.99 entertained, but hanging out with Mike and holding hands like a couple of eighth graders was nice.

After a small detour (might I say that spacious minivans come in handy for more than just toting the soccer gear around), we make it home where we are assaulted by a crying baby, an impish preschooler, and a hollering kid who is the subject of his impish sister’s impish behaviour.  And just like that, we were flung back into reality, like an unsuspecting bug splattered on a windshield.  Nan and Pop seemed happy to see us after a few hours nearly wiped them out.

The hiatus may have been short-lived but it was just what we needed to reconnect.  We remembered why we fell in love and what our love has created.  An boring afternoon jaunt to the movies might be the highpoint of our week, but we chose this life and we wouldn’t have it any other way.