For over 15 months I had not had a 24-hour period to myself, and I
was long overdue for some R&R. So off to Las Vegas I went for a birthday celebration with my BFF.
For three nights and four days, I left my sweet baby boy with my husband and his parents. Sure, I was nervous, but with the promise that my husband would send me pictures regularly and knowing what an awesome father he is, I silenced the nagging voice in my head listing all the things that could go wrong.
As soon as I said my goodbyes at the airport, an enormous sense of freedom overcame me. I had my personal space back. I had only one suitcase! Security, boarding the plane, reading a book was all so much easier! I realized that I was desperately in need of this little trip.
As my BFF and I were eating our way through amazing restaurants, drinking fabulous sangria, going to the spa, and of course playing a few slot machines, the little voice was always there. I ignored it, muffled it, and tried to scratch it away like an itch. But it was always there.
Tragedy and misfortune danced through my head. I imagined Aiven’s skull cracked open from taking a spill down the stairs, blood everywhere. I could vividly see Alex’s mom getting distracted and plowing the Suburban into a pole, sending Aiven flying through the windshield. I had visions of Alex and Aiven living like Peter Pan’s Lost Boys, eating imaginary food and putting on war paint. Or maybe it was more like The Lord of the Flies–without my civilizing influence they were surely degenerating into rabid animals. I stared at my phone, wondering when the fateful call from the emergency room would arrive.
In the end, it was more like The Cat in the Hat. They had their fun, got into trouble, and tried to clean up as best they could. When Alex picked me up from the airport, his clothes were disheveled and he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks (not far from the truth). And poor Aiven was a hot little mess.
Aiven hadn’t been himself the entire time I was away. His always happy mood, gone. His slightly drippy nose had become a full-on snot fest and a raging cough was added to the mix. His cough kept me up for several nights upon my return, as I would run to his room and listen every time a wheezing fit started in case I needed to resuscitate him. Perhaps worst of all, he hardly ate in my absence. I could feel his ribs, and his puffy cheeks were deflated!
I have been home for two weeks now and just the other day my shiny, happy, son returned. The only remnants of my being away is that every morning when he crawls into bed, he wraps his hands around my neck and buries his face into my neck, holding on for dear life. I get the message loud and clear.
Yet I know I will have to go away again someday, although hopefully it won’t be any time soon. I also learned a valuable lesson. I have to be OK with not controlling everything. I could not control what happened while I was away. Although it did not go the way I would have wanted, it also didn’t end in tragedy. And as Aiven grows up, becomes more independent, and spends more time away from me, I have to accept that I cannot always be there to keep him safe.
This post originally appeared on Kveller.com. Kveller.com offers a Jewish twist on parenting, everything a Jewish family could need for raising Jewish children--including crafts, recipes, activities, Hebrew and Jewish names for babies...and advice from Mayim Bialik.
For three nights and four days, I left my sweet baby boy with my husband and his parents. Sure, I was nervous, but with the promise that my husband would send me pictures regularly and knowing what an awesome father he is, I silenced the nagging voice in my head listing all the things that could go wrong.
As soon as I said my goodbyes at the airport, an enormous sense of freedom overcame me. I had my personal space back. I had only one suitcase! Security, boarding the plane, reading a book was all so much easier! I realized that I was desperately in need of this little trip.
As my BFF and I were eating our way through amazing restaurants, drinking fabulous sangria, going to the spa, and of course playing a few slot machines, the little voice was always there. I ignored it, muffled it, and tried to scratch it away like an itch. But it was always there.
Tragedy and misfortune danced through my head. I imagined Aiven’s skull cracked open from taking a spill down the stairs, blood everywhere. I could vividly see Alex’s mom getting distracted and plowing the Suburban into a pole, sending Aiven flying through the windshield. I had visions of Alex and Aiven living like Peter Pan’s Lost Boys, eating imaginary food and putting on war paint. Or maybe it was more like The Lord of the Flies–without my civilizing influence they were surely degenerating into rabid animals. I stared at my phone, wondering when the fateful call from the emergency room would arrive.
In the end, it was more like The Cat in the Hat. They had their fun, got into trouble, and tried to clean up as best they could. When Alex picked me up from the airport, his clothes were disheveled and he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks (not far from the truth). And poor Aiven was a hot little mess.
Aiven hadn’t been himself the entire time I was away. His always happy mood, gone. His slightly drippy nose had become a full-on snot fest and a raging cough was added to the mix. His cough kept me up for several nights upon my return, as I would run to his room and listen every time a wheezing fit started in case I needed to resuscitate him. Perhaps worst of all, he hardly ate in my absence. I could feel his ribs, and his puffy cheeks were deflated!
I have been home for two weeks now and just the other day my shiny, happy, son returned. The only remnants of my being away is that every morning when he crawls into bed, he wraps his hands around my neck and buries his face into my neck, holding on for dear life. I get the message loud and clear.
Yet I know I will have to go away again someday, although hopefully it won’t be any time soon. I also learned a valuable lesson. I have to be OK with not controlling everything. I could not control what happened while I was away. Although it did not go the way I would have wanted, it also didn’t end in tragedy. And as Aiven grows up, becomes more independent, and spends more time away from me, I have to accept that I cannot always be there to keep him safe.
This post originally appeared on Kveller.com. Kveller.com offers a Jewish twist on parenting, everything a Jewish family could need for raising Jewish children--including crafts, recipes, activities, Hebrew and Jewish names for babies...and advice from Mayim Bialik.
What nonsense...why not be grateful that he was taken care of while you were sipping sangrias and playing slots
ReplyDeleteWhat is actually nonsense, is expecting a mother to be grateful that her son was not properly taken care of by people that she previously trusted. I for one, see it as a positive thing that you are not longer allowed in this child's life, if this is in fact, one of the infamous in-laws. Just in case it is, here's some advice: maybe you should stop judging others based on your own values, and try to better yourself, so maybe your own family might want to speak to you again...
DeleteYou got back two weeks ago? You let those people into your home and around your child after they actively tried to ruin your marriage?
ReplyDeleteActually, I got back 4 weeks ago. There was a delay in posting this article. "Those people" actively tried to ruin my marriage while I was away on the trip. I did not include that additional family drama in this particular article. Hope that clears up the confusion with the timing.
ReplyDeleteThey will never be welcomed into my home or see my child ever again after what they did.
Don't know what world you live in, but going to Sin City doesn't constitute "having to go away." It's "wanting" to go away. I re-iterate, as a result of you having deleted my last comment pertaining to another post, that it will be a crying shame when little Aiven deems you and your husband "those people", or "offending parties" and cuts off contact with you at the behest of his significant other.
ReplyDeleteCara: Clearly you are doing the right thing.
ReplyDeleteIt is obvious who is posting some comments under "anonymous" and they are cowards for not saying who they are (even though we all know exactly who they are).
Cara, I'd suggest you really let 'er rip. There's no pleasing these people. You might as well get a good book out of it. Write it all up and publish and be damned. These people are stone crazy. Yes, anonymous, your son grew up and took a wife and had a child. Telling him to divorce her while she was away on a birthday trip was unjustifiable in any culture, let alone in modern America. You are getting exactly what a sane person would expect--the back of everyone's hand and the contempt of even internet strangers. I'd suggest a little humility and a long withdrawal into safer territory, like a closet, if you ever want to have quality family time with your son and his family again. That's just what we in the parenting biz call "natural consequences."
ReplyDeleteaimai
Cara--it's not your ex-in-laws writing these posts but someone else. So don't blame them. Nor is it myself. Michelle
ReplyDeleteMichelle:
DeleteOne day, when you have a child of your own, you will understand. If someone threatened to take your child away, you too would cut that person out of your life, even if it was your own parent.
I hope you are doing well.
Stay strong. Every Mom needs a break - whether it's wanted or needed. You are still entitled to YOU time. I sent this to my sister and she wanted me to relay this to you: it gets a little easier when the kids get older. The separation anxiety doesn't get easier but knowing that they can take care of themselves a bit more makes it easier.
ReplyDelete