Some days, I want to run away from home.
And lay on the beach and sleep all day and not look at my smartphone or have to fix a meal or wipe a butt.
Some days, I want to run away from home.
And rewind the clock and remember what my body looked like before I pushed out three beautiful babies.
Some days, I want to run away from home.
And fly half way across the world and backpack through Southeast Asia, or take a Jeep through the Australian outback.
Some days, I want to run away from home.
And go hang out in the city with my besties and do the things I used to do before I couldn’t do them anymore. Shop. Spa. Eat. Drink. Repeat.
Some days, I want to run away from home.
And get dressed up in a fancy frock and put on my best shoes and get picked up by my debonair boyfriend (now husband, ahem) and head out to our favorite restaurant, the night fresh in front of us, with no worries of bedtimes and babysitters and bottles.
Some days, I want to run away from home.
And turn back the clock to the summers spent at camp in the Northwoods of Minnesota. Sailing, archery, waterskiing, horseback riding. Heaven.
Some days, I want to run away from home.
And drive up to a Cubs game in the afternoon, and then head to Milwaukee for a Brewers game at night. Yes, a two-city, day-night doubleheader. (My husband and I actually did that. Twice, BC — Before Children.)
Some days, I want to run away from home.
And take my mom to lunch. At Neiman Marcus.
Today was one of those days.
When all I wanted to do
was run away from home.
But I know tomorrow will be better. And I won’t want to run away. I’ll want to be a mom and a wife and all that good stuff.
But today, I want to run away. And that’s okay.
Laura Weisskopf Bleill is the co-founder and editor of chambanamoms.com. You can reach her at laura@chambanamoms(dot)com.