After last week’s trial by fire, I thought the kids and I deserved a little field trip. The Kirkland farmer’s market opened for the season on Wednesday, so we drove over and strolled among the fresh produce and baked goods.
It was a gorgeous, blue bird day, full of sunshine and plenty of shoppers. We walked the stalls, pausing to admire the array of color in the radishes, carrots and peppers. We stopped to talk to our favorite organic lotion shopkeeper who hadn’t seen the babies since close of last season. He had a new organic baby lotion, which we would’ve purchased had it not been for the stores of similar lotion we have at home.
We walked the pier, basking in the water view, breathing the fresh air, and basically having every opposite sensation to illness one can have.
Mike called while we were walking the pier, saying he was just getting off the freeway into downtown Kirkland. I couldn’t believe it; it was only 4PM. It was like we were getting reimbursed by a cosmic retailer for last week’s trouble.
“Three of you were sick? Here’s a sunny day. You, the mama, were sick? Okay I’ll throw in a market day. This went on for days? Fine! I fold. Mike will get off early and meet you for a drink.”
I accepted this deal, hands outstretched. We walked up to the Slip, our favorite outdoor restaurant/bar in Kirkland, and we met the baby daddy and another good friend for a beer. I nearly had whiplash from the change: here I was, not lying helplessly on the floor, but sitting in the sunshine drinking a beer during happy hour, holding giggling babies — on a Wednesday. It was some sort of stay-at-home-mom unicorn day.
And now, even more spectacular, I’m looking ahead to a momentous first — our first night away. On Mother’s Day Mike gave me a card that told me we were staying overnight at a fancy hotel on June 14. I was so excited, but also nervous to be away from the babies for the first time. I’m still nervous, anticipating texting my parents every hour to check on them, but I’m also out of my mind excited. I can sleep in. I can sleep in. I can sleep in. Even if our wine tasting afternoon fails, and dinner isn’t great, even if everything else goes wrong — I can sleep in. I haven’t slept in in over ten months (and I really wasn’t sleeping in while pregnant, so it’s been over a year, easily).
This is the life of a parent, isn’t it? Ecstatic at the thought of twenty-four hours of freedom, and desperate at the thought of even one hour away from those scrumptious cheeks, chubby thighs, eager smiles. I’ve never missed a morning of them waking to greet me. I thank God I have my trustworthy parents to leave them to. I know I’m going to relish a day away of doing whatever we please, but just as much I know I’m going to sprint back to their shining eyes and outstretched arms.