10 things about a Mom-cation

 The reality of life is that we Mommas get the least high fives or thanks. Because we just do what needs to be done. We made little people and we care for them because we should. It's our job. It is a daily grind and joy all at once. It's a balance that is so often tipped in the favor of the most needy, which is always the kids and sometimes even the spouse. All the pumpkin spice lattes in the world can't compensate for a full blown Target tantrum at decibels dogs can hear followed by vomiting in the car. But we just get shit done. Because it needs to just get done. I am not saying husbands are worthless but fellas you have a way of passing the buck to the lackey. And at the end of the day, the month, the year, we have let our sanity go a bit and our pretty is for show.

 Then something magical could happen. What if through the gripes and snark of the interwebs you found other like minded females who had all the same carry on luggage as you. By that I mean the bags under our eyes. But they also have the same laugh lines. Impossible? Not for me thank god. I met some of my soul mates in real life last weekend and it made feel so stupid for not thinking of taking a trip like this sooner ( all praise to Jenn for the idea and follow through). It was my saving grace for a fresh new year. That, is certain.

 I know most of these ladies from the web, one is my real life bestie and half I met a bloggy event a while back. But in this dynamic things were different and way better for relaxing fun. We had no fucks to give because of some silent code we all simultaneously adopted as our own. No judgement, just love and actual admiration for each others strengths and struggles. I can honestly say I didn't know 16 moms around my age who would treat me with such love until last weekend. Just for example, no one gave me shit for being the first one asleep each night! For one we aren't in college, but also for two, all of them know I never sleep. So the actual happiness I got from a few full nights uninterrupted was celebrated by them too. Because they get it. I am so grateful for the people in my life who get me. Because I am a weirdo. And let me tell you last weekend being a weirdo was basically the name of the game.


 If you are a Mom, and you assess your momlife balance and you realize you need a getaway, do it. I cannot promise the level of awesome that we managed to achieve. But I can guarantee a fresh feeling of calm probably up til the minute you pull into your own driveway again. If you're family is like mine all hell either broke loose while you were gone or the very second they saw your face and you may want to get back in the car.


  Anyways, here are my suggestions should you choose to want a good, wait, great time.

1. Pick a spot off the beaten path. The less civilization, the more in your own world you can be. So what if you and 15 ladies in matching sweatshirts infiltrate the one tiny cafe for breakfast with mild dazed champagne hangovers. So. What. Also, then it's basically your cafe.  
2. Do not dress to impress. Just be comfortable. Make it a rule that no fucks will be given and leggings are pants for the weekend. Because if you are busy worrying about what someone thinks of your outfit you are going to miss something way more fun and important for your soul.
3. Bring LOTS of food. To the legit access. Because a hangry group is a bitchy group. But also because then the kitchen is where it's at and food is an easy ice breaker. Everyone eats ya'll. 
4. Bring games. As juvenile as it seems, it's a big slumber party right? So what did you do back in the day to bond with your childhood girls? You played truth or dare, or Mall Madness. I know you did. So grab Apples to Apples or even Cards Against Humanities if you dare be bold like us, and prepare to cry laugh. It hurts so good. 
5. Bring your vice. Let it all hang out. This is your weekend away. If you smoke ten cigarettes like me* because it's an oldie but a goodie when you have drinks in hand. And for the best worst reason sometimes it feels like old times of youth and fun. Bring it with you. You would be shocked at who may join you. Everyone's got their somethin.
6. Don't call home 50 times. We naturally left it all at home. But I know some of my friends that didn't go that would have been constantly checking in. You just can't. What is the point then? And on that same note, tell your spouse to cut you a break with the pictures of the kids crying.
7. Bring awesome pjs. You end up getting in them earlier and earlier and perhaps just the whole last day you live in them.
8. Let your derp flag fly. Some of the best moments are because of a silly joke that keeps going wayyyyyy too far. Or an app that everyone starts taking crazy pictures with that continues long after everyone gets home. It's the minutes and seconds of crazy that blend with the lazy. That is the magic. 
9. Don't get out of hand and be "that girl". I say this because no one did. Not a single crying puker out of 16 chics. I know! Impressive. And so perfect. Everyone was grown up enough and I think it's a sign we were all comfortable enough to relax the right way. And in our own moderation. No fights, no drama, no nonsense. I feel like shots are a direct link to bullshit like that in this setting so maybe that's the key right there. We did no shots.
10. Don't mourn the trip till you are safely in bed at home afterwards. Then cry. Sort of kidding. I just mean don't waste a minute of good stuff wishing it wasn't over when it isn't over till that last person on the carpool chain drives away. Then sadness. But the great part even in that, it means it was so amazing you cannot wait to do it again. But seriously there is fun to be had even in the cleanup and packing cars. Don't miss a thing.

 Here is a montage of pics of our trip that you more than likely are tired of seeing if you follow any number of us on instagram because how nauseating were all our matching pics right? Sorry not sorry.

 Photo credit to everyone but I will add links as soon as I sort out who took what. We have some amazing photogs who do this for a living and their shots are of course the best ones.

 * I am so nott telling everyone to start smoking so chill the fuckout.
** Also, I miss you all so very much.

What if you don't have anything nice to say for a really long time?

  A friend asked me the other night why I don't blog anymore. I told her I was trying really hard to practice the old " if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all" thing. When life has been pretty negative I feel like I can get trapped in a pattern of just bitching my verbal vomit out here. So, looking back I now see that I lose followers and my dear friends start to worry when it's been more than a month between posts. Because I tried something new. Being quiet. For the record I hate being quiet. And for the record her reply was "Why? Just go back to being you. I people can't handle it. Fuck em."

  Though I rant plenty I don't air all my dirty laundry here. There are novels I could write about voldemort and yes she has reared her ugly head bad nose job and seriously questionable hairstyles a lot lately. But I am sort of tired of dishing out that same poop with a different scoop. So I don't. And really when it comes to her, I can ignore the things she does to antagonize me personally. That shit is laughable and sad. When it's the lashings out against my children I dig in with no remorse. I do draw the line there and for the most part she has been somewhat less than toxic on that front. (knock on wood that continues)

  Most of my frustrations have been with Aidan. My emotions about him have been right under the surface and without even trying friends have brought me to tears with just an inquiry. That isn't me. Or the me I like to wear out in public every day. It's not a me I care to share with the world right now in brief encounters that make me self conscious as hell. Afterwards I worry that perhaps I will be seen as not having my shit together, or weak. I don't admit it often and frankly most of you can see it clearly, I rarely have my shit totally handled but damnit if I don't take all punishing blows with as much strength as I can. Weak is something I refuse to be. I hate it. I can be sensitive and not weak. Except the last few months have me feeling helpless and in fact weak as I've ever felt. I feel small and alone. Even in a team called marriage I still feel alone. My thoughts are my own and I don't share some of the important ones enough. I don't throw out cries for help or posts for back pats. But I do need to write my feelings more than I have been about this topic especially.

  I am wholeheartedly afraid for my sons future. I am sad to think he may never marry. That he may not reach high levels of education that fulfill his happiness. That he will remain so simple. That he could possibly live at home for a very long time. I fear that I cannot keep him safe. From himself and his stupidly brave innocent choices more than any outside source of harm or manipulation. I have horrid dreams about this. His great leaps in development have also continued to show the vast pits. That divide widens every day. The contrast breaks my heart. I don't have to compare him to his peers anymore because he doesn't have any. He is his own animal of mixed ages. Regression is still present and though we celebrate the shining moments, the darkness in the corners collects all the cast off skills that may never come back but haunt me because I documented the fact that he could at one point do them. Let's just say I can't use timehop without feeling depressed 5 times out of 10.

  The stimming and humming has reached nearly intolerable levels and I crack after 6 hours of incessant sound and running. I shout now. Because I can't break through into his world otherwise. I yell "STOP!!" at him. And sometimes he will stop. Just sometimes. It makes me feel like a terrible parent to yell at him. When he is being a "regular" child and acting his social age (which is barely 2 and 1/2) I can laugh at the naughty behaviors because THAT I can handle with grace. It's Autism that is breaking me. Yes it has been difficult to live through these terrible twos for so many more years than normal. Yes it will be a relief when he starts acting 3. But my hearts hurts to wonder when that will be. Will he be 6 in body and motor skills when he is 3 in communication and social interaction? Or 8 or 9? Right now I have a 2 1/2 year old with the build of a small 5 year old and he can read and do simple addition as well as rote count to 200. But he can't understand traffic safety and would gladly stroll into oncoming traffic as you scream STOP.

  This life is currently too unpredictable on the spectrum and I am in the trenches having a hard go of it. It's hard to work. It's hard to be home. I am holding on really tightly to the things that bring me joy but I find myself shying away from interactions that could scrape the surface and make me cry. So most of my moments are solo. Which makes for a ton of deep thinking and soul searching. I know I am a tough cookie and that some people I love would like nothing more but to force social interaction to heal me but that's not my jam. And bless their heart most of them know that. So those of you that feel like your hands are tied and you can't help, trust that I understand how you feel and I love you. You weirdos who leave jars or wine on my porch are the reason I smile. Even if I don't say it the texted memes of crazy random shit are important to me. I really do have some of the best friends. I am fully heart eyed emojis all day for you.

 I do need to write more because this was therapy. Just saying words helps.