Child-free and (almost) guilt-free

So I managed to guilt my ex-husband into taking both my kids for a long weekend. For those of you who haven't been following along, this represents a rather extraordinary occurrence, since my younger son isn't even his. Which he knows, of course, making his gesture all the more amazing and generous.

I'm trying so hard not to feel guilty, and to remember how the little turds I spawned have taken me right to the edge of insanity, only to smile with such joy and innocence that falling off that ledge seems ill-advised, not to mention badly timed.

So every time one of them calls me, just to say hi, just to say goodnight, just to say, Mamae, I miss you, I say that I miss them back, that I love them so much, and when the anxiety starts to rise and threatens to choke off my good mood, I take myself back to last week, when Dash was up all night throwing his little body all over the bed, and Luca was taking the fucking Hot Wheels cars from Dash's clenched fists just to see how loudly he could get his little brother to scream.

And the anxiety recedes, and the guilt settles down to a low simmer, sometimes even disappearing completely. And I wonder why I didn't book a longer stay while my ex was in such a giving (perhaps dissociative) mood.

It is a funny-feeling thing to want time away from your children. It is something I want when I want it, a reprieve from the daily and nightly groundhog-day grind that, if timed well, can help me be a nicer mommy. Because being a mother is the single most rewarding and epic thing I've done yet in this life. It's also, quite frankly, the most bone-headed, idiotic and mind-numbing wagon I've managed to hitch myself to. And remember that I've been married.

I mean, who in their right and rational and sober mind would knowingly give up sleep, sex, time for oneself, light-colored upholstery, long showers, and disposable income, to mention just a few things, in order to be enslaved to a demanding, insatiable, selfish, boob-sucking, assplosion machine?

And yet.

Who in their right and rational and sober mind would forgo the life-changing love one feels for one's child? The naked tushies; the tooth-less and toothy smiles; the sweet, unconditionally given hugs and cuddling; the joy in their faces when you show up at the end of the day; the chance to love someone in a way you don't even (admit it) love yourself.

It's maddening.

And lovely.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.