No matter which Real Housewives variation one might watch– and I’ve watched, uh, a few– most of the dramatic action within any given city’s season involves
- talking about “just getting away with the girls”
- shopping to get away with the girls
- getting away with the girls
I suppose no one has ever watched Real Housewives for its firm adherence to, you know, reality. But it always strikes me as a little strange that the screaming and hair-pulling and throwing things starts AFTER they’re already ensconced in their Deluxe Imperial Romance Suite at the Princess Ambassador Deluxe Royale Wherever.
For me, being away is a breeze. Getting away? Achieving the escape velocity required to board that plane? It’s an exhausting process requiring at least two weeks, forty woman hours, and every ounce of sanity I have left to give.
I’m heading to the Mom 2.0 conference in Phoenix this week. I may have bought an “Early Bird” ticket the very first day they went on sale nine months ago. Since my non-mothering work is done mostly on a laptop at the library, blogging conferences are my chance to own the feeling of a career: I learn ways to improve my work, make connections, stay up late with lots of funny women similarly giddy due to their own escapes from their home planets.
I leave in less than twenty-four hours. I have not packed. But for two weeks, I have been working on a master document called “FAMILY SCHEDULE WHILE MOM IS AWAY.”
It’s five single-spaced typed pages. It’s in its seventh edition. And I’m not done yet.
Am I a control freak? Yes. That’s been established. But the first weekend in May is also apparently the perfect time for
- the first-grader’s first school play, with mostly-homemade costumes
- the fourth-grader’s two chorus concerts
- the sixth-grader’s Picture Day for his baseball team
- the first cousin’s First Communion
- the OTHER first cousin’s First Communion
- the school’s “Welcome Grandparents!” breakfast
- the dog’s troublesome anal gland maintenance
- and for our part-time babysitter to be out of town.
At this point I am taking all comers. “Yes, I will take that to go, and by the way, are you free this Saturday morning at 7:15 am to stand around at a soccer game? Don’t forget, you’re on snack duty this week as well.”
The really crazy part is that I believe it has taken me longer to create this master document covering my three days’ absence than it would have to just actually do everything on it. I think that’s because I had to plan ahead now for all the stuff I’d (probably) remember at the last second. “Don’t forget binder!!” I write, with several asterisks, because it has just occurred to me that I would have almost done so.
There are sublists and lists of lists. I have tried to think of everything. I will still get on the plane tomorrow morning with my heart pounding, certain that there is something I forgot. But why worry? In 2015, my family can still text and Skype and FaceTime me.
mom where’s my baseball glove
wait is it a dress down day?!?
It’ll be like I never said goodbye.