I still can't quite believe it: I'm in a hotel room, by myself, for two whole days. It's a Bridgetcation!
For a long time now, I've been feeling like I'm barely keeping my head above water when it comes to sanity at home. My patience/love/empathy/selflessness/wipingtinybums/emptyingthedishwashereveryday/etc. reserves were running dry. Aside from the time I spent in class, I hardly had two hours of kid-free waking hours to rub together. Combine that with Jeremy's most stressful semester yet + a couple of weeks here and there when he was out of town (which really, really gets to me) and you had one tired Bridget who was starting to feel like an empty shell of herself.
Because motherhood is exhausting, did you know?
Jeremy talked about sending me to a hotel by myself to recuperate for a couple of days and this week, everything clicked into place and it became a reality. When I checked in yesterday afternoon, it took me a good couple of hours to calm myself and get down to the business of doing NOTHING. Or whatever I wanted, anyway.
I channel-surfed the MBC stations (2, 4, Action, and Max), tuning into Oprah for a few minutes for old times' sake (old times = every period of my life I've spent in the Middle East, because Oprah is good television here). I contemplated ordering in room service for dinner, and then decided against it because it runs counter to everything my parents ever taught me. I finished reading one book and then started another one. I went to bed late with no expectation of having to wake up early in the morning. Truly, that is one of life's great pleasures.
Today, I slept in and then went downstairs to the lobby to eat a huge breakfast at a leisurely pace. I got a free massage. I walked out on the beach. I took a nap. I read some more. I've got The Age of Innocence and all eight hours of Bleak House ready to go if I want to watch them.
I still have 18 hours before my Bridgetcation ends, and I'm already feeling mostly recharged. This is a very good thing.
The funny thing is that I feel foolish explaining this to anyone aside from Jeremy, who of course understands me perfectly. But the way I see it, everybody has their way to detox and recharge. Some women have scheduled, frequent, short breaks from life. Some women meet up with girlfriends for fun, out-of-town trips. Some women just want to be by themselves for a while. That last one is the group I belong to, but if you think it's weird, I understand.
So, is staying at a hotel by yourself for two days your idea of a personal hell, or do you totally get what I'm talking about?
For a long time now, I've been feeling like I'm barely keeping my head above water when it comes to sanity at home. My patience/love/empathy/selflessness/wipingtinybums/emptyingthedishwashereveryday/etc. reserves were running dry. Aside from the time I spent in class, I hardly had two hours of kid-free waking hours to rub together. Combine that with Jeremy's most stressful semester yet + a couple of weeks here and there when he was out of town (which really, really gets to me) and you had one tired Bridget who was starting to feel like an empty shell of herself.
Because motherhood is exhausting, did you know?
Jeremy talked about sending me to a hotel by myself to recuperate for a couple of days and this week, everything clicked into place and it became a reality. When I checked in yesterday afternoon, it took me a good couple of hours to calm myself and get down to the business of doing NOTHING. Or whatever I wanted, anyway.
I channel-surfed the MBC stations (2, 4, Action, and Max), tuning into Oprah for a few minutes for old times' sake (old times = every period of my life I've spent in the Middle East, because Oprah is good television here). I contemplated ordering in room service for dinner, and then decided against it because it runs counter to everything my parents ever taught me. I finished reading one book and then started another one. I went to bed late with no expectation of having to wake up early in the morning. Truly, that is one of life's great pleasures.
Today, I slept in and then went downstairs to the lobby to eat a huge breakfast at a leisurely pace. I got a free massage. I walked out on the beach. I took a nap. I read some more. I've got The Age of Innocence and all eight hours of Bleak House ready to go if I want to watch them.
I still have 18 hours before my Bridgetcation ends, and I'm already feeling mostly recharged. This is a very good thing.
The funny thing is that I feel foolish explaining this to anyone aside from Jeremy, who of course understands me perfectly. But the way I see it, everybody has their way to detox and recharge. Some women have scheduled, frequent, short breaks from life. Some women meet up with girlfriends for fun, out-of-town trips. Some women just want to be by themselves for a while. That last one is the group I belong to, but if you think it's weird, I understand.
So, is staying at a hotel by yourself for two days your idea of a personal hell, or do you totally get what I'm talking about?