Life, Love, Long Hair, Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth, and other mysteries

All this and more, from a semi-Serbian, slightly sane, former editor for physicians and surgeons, who is the mother of seven kids.

Monday, 19 March 2012

My Attempted Weekend Getaway

I'd been threatening/scheming to do this for months, and it finally came to pass.


As a mom of seven, working from home doing medical transcription, home schooling my seven-year-old son, and trying to write a book, you might imagine I'm a tad overwhelmed at times.

For my 45th birthday a couple months ago, Sweet Man wanted to send me away to a resort.

No, not to get rid of me!  He just knows how badly I need a break.

But he couldn't figure out how to arrange it.

No problem - I arranged it myself.

I live in a beautiful part of British Columbia (what part of BC isn't beautiful?  Okay, maybe Surrey... and Port Coquitlam... and I hear Prince George is kinda "meh"... but other than that?*) where there are lots of hunting and fishing lodges, motels, bed & breakfasts, and resorts from which to choose.

I ended up settling on one that's a five minute drive from home, with reservations for two nights and plans to work on my book.

On Friday afternoon, I headed out at 3:15 p.m. to my destination.

By 4:00, I had everything set up in my room.

Half of my resort hotel room.

By 5:00, I admitted to myself how lonely I felt.

By 8:00, I decided there was no way I was staying past checkout the next morning.

I had called home to say goodnight to my kids.  The youngest, my little three-year-old princess, was sobbing her heart out, "Mama!  I want you!  I want you!"

I tried to console her, saying, "Daddy's there.  He can hug you."

"No, I want YOU, Mama! (Sob, sob, sob, sniff, sniff...)  I want you home right nowwwww....  Mamaaaaaaaaaa..."

My four-year-old son admonished me, trying to sound so grown up, "Mommy, you shouldn't be there alone.  You should have a friend with you."

My seven-year-old son said, "I miss you so, so, so, so much, Mom."

I guess I'm too young to be going anywhere alone overnight yet.

But I tried.  I really did.  When I first got there, after hauling in my stuff, I set up my computer and logged on to Skype in hopes of catching one of my daughters online.  Immediately my buddy Shakira* (as always in my blogging, I use altered names) saw me and we had a chat.  I rarely get to chat with anyone anymore, so that was nice.

I'd failed to pack my ergonomic keyboard, thinking I'd just "rough it" with my notebook, but found it too frustrating to type much that way, and I didn't feel at all motivated to work on my book.

I fell asleep on one of the beds while the sun was getting low in the sky and woke up to the dim light of dusk.

I brought my computer into the bathroom, set up a few Led Zeppelin songs on a YouTube playlist, and proceeded to fill the tub with water.

Dang it, I'd forgotten to pack candles.  I turned out the bathroom light, leaving the door open and allowing the hall light to gently illuminate the room.  Not quite the same as my usual candle-lit baths, but it sufficed.

In the cozy white robe provided by the resort, I lounged on the bed, reading Facebook updates, listening to music, and phoning home.

Why, yes, that IS a Coleman cooler on the bed behind me.

Should've brought my ergonomic keyboard.  I was tempted to drive home and get it so I could properly work on my book, but I figured why bother - I really didn't want to be there anymore anyway.

I took a few pictures, sent some to Sweet Man via computer, called home and talked to Sweet Man some more, ate some rice, ate some date rolls, ate some rice crackers, drank some decaf, bla bla bla'd on Facebook, then got silly:  time to make music videos.

Here's one I made:

Here's a link for the blog entry containing the other one I made.

Enough of that.

Prior to having left home, I'd told my almost-15-year-old daughter about the fact that I couldn't get a view room, so she offered to draw me some pictures to help liven up what I'd see.

And she did just that, with crayons from her little siblings, while I spent the next 20 minutes loading a program onto my 18-year-old daughter's computer.

Here they are:

Person at a beach, wearing bikini.  That thing in the water is someone wind surfing.

Farm scene.  Those yellow things are corn growing - without husks. (She has a crazy sense of humor!)

A city night scene.

Skiers skiing and some riding the chair lift.

I forgot to bring tape, so wasn't able to stick them to my window as I'd intended.  I did, however, place them in a prominent spot on the spare bed, and smiled whenever I saw them.

In the morning, after waking a few times from weird dreams (really weird, even scary, dreams - for example, in one, I dreamed that I was in the hotel bed and opened my eyes just enough to see what I presumed to be a homeless man with long, unkempt hair, crawl out from a hole in the back of the closet.  He was naked, but thankfully I didn't see anything meant to remain private.  I lay as still as possible, hoping he'd not see me.  He sneaked to the bathroom, then crawled back into the hole.), I got up, made the caffeinated coffee that was provided by the resort, had a cup of it with the stevia and soy milk I'd brought, and poked around on Facebook and in my blog.

A bit of packing, a bit of hauling stuff to my truck, and then, the best part:  I left!

Although it wasn't the weekend of relaxation and writing I envisioned it would be, I don't regret having gone, because it did give me the perspective I needed in order to better appreciate what I have.

Here is what I jotted down in a notebook before driving away:

After checking out at the main lodge, I became aware I was walking too fast.

I usually do walk fast - always in a hurry in my high-speed life.

I said to myself, "Slow down".

I forced my muscles to back off, and I took slow, sauntering steps, enjoying the sound of my Baffin boots hitting the wooden walkway, a bird singing "hee-hoo" every few beats, and I smiled inwardly over the metaphor I was experiencing.

Walking slowly.

Taking the time to notice and appreciate the little things I might miss when moving in fast forward.

Missing my kids.

They're little, but they're huge, and I can't afford to let life go by so quickly that I miss out on one precious note of their sweet song.

With love,

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*No offense meant to those who dwell in Surrey, Port Coquitlam, or Prince George!  :) 

The original hair silliness video:  Long Hair Going Crazy Video - Blondie
Another random post:  Why Does Sheep Happen To Me?


  1. Beautiful! I love it! Thanks for sharing!

  2. I remember when I first moved out on my own with a room mate. She left for a couple days and I went absolutely NUTS on my own in my OWN home.


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