Mother and Child Reunion: How Big

I was inspired this morning by Andrea to jump onboard the bathroom Self-Portrait challenge, not realizing that ship had sailed last Tuesday.

It's just as well, because a bathroom self-portrait would require a moment by myself in the bathroom. And that wasn't on this morning's program.

My littlest Who was especially wanting to stay close this morning, as we pulled a disappearing act on him for our tenth anniversary, with an overnight stay at a friend's lakehouse.

"Mommy," he said when I picked him up yesterday from another friends house, "I never found you." His tone wasn't so much one of reprimand as one of consternation: I thought I looked everywhere, confound it. What stone did I leave unturned?

By all reports, he did fine in our absence, but it must have been confusing for him, since I had no less than four different caretakers keeping him in shifts over a 24 hour period. This was entirely due to my congenital time-space impairment, which I wrote about last week. (Did you think it was hyperbole? The next day I nearly boiled dry a pan of eggs because I was using the egg timer in another room to help me stay on task and focused.)

I had arranged the getaway as a surprise anniversary/birthday present for Patrick. The same friend who owns the lakehouse had also offered to come and stay with the kids at our house overnight. My friend with whom we carpool would handle getting everyone to and from school, and we would be home in time to pick them up at the end of the schoolday yesterday.

The minute I unveiled my grand plan—that being the Last Possible Minute—Patrick saw the hole in it.

"The baby doesn't go to preschool on Thursdays."

[Insert expletive of choice here.]

Thus followed a mad scramble to secure care for him and save our anniversary. I sent out a S.O.S. email to all my girlfriends, and within ten minutes of our departure had set up an all day game of "pass the preschooler".

We had a nice time, especially the hour and a half drive there and back. Patrick and I have always been great road companions (planes are another story). The tension/worry meter has been off the dial around here lately, and we really needed that time to reconnect and remind each other of our real net worth.

(On the financial front, we need a very minor miracle. If any of you have a direct line with that department, put in a word for us, would you? And ask them to please hurry? Thanks!)

The boys were so happy and chatty last night. I had that feeling of contentment that sometimes washes over me; the five of us bobbing along on our little raft, complete unto ourselves. No one else I'd rather be at sea with.

At such times I am reminded of my favorite scene of one of my favorite movies, Joe vs. the Volcano. It is a wonderful fable. There's a moment where Joe, the hero, adrift at sea, dehydrated, and delirious, looks up and sees the night sky, a magnificent starry dome above the ocean. He manages to struggle to his feet, and raises both his arms to the heavens.

"Thank you for my life," he chokes out. "I'd forgotten. How big."

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And thanks to many of you for the kind anniversary wishes. It was a real treat to come home and read them. I promised my mother I would write about our wonderful, boho, barn-raising of a wedding. I will try my best to make good on that over the weekend.