“Then you can have a break too, mom.” These words are spoken by my middle daughter before I leave for Milan for a work trip. And she's right. During these kinds of trips, you sometimes have free time when it would otherwise be busy.
After a day full of meetings, at 6:00 PM, for example, a quick bath and getting ready for dinner. A moment when I would otherwise be trying to feed pasta to one child while another tugs at my skirts and the other two girls want some cucumber.
The best thing in life is being with your children, but the second best is being without them for a while. Even if it's just for an hour. On Friday, I allowed myself that moment. It was Good Friday, one girl went to school and the others were with our regular nanny Stella. Just a few hours in a luxury spa. No Frozen sing-alongs, no “no, that’s mine,” just me and myself for a bit. And maybe a friendly yet calm spa guest.
I hear someone who sounds a lot like a toddler shouting: “I’m jumping, daddy. Will you catch me?”
The moment my toe touches the water, I see the outlines of inflatable armbands. And a green ball. And I hear someone who sounds a lot like a toddler shouting: “I’m jumping, daddy. Will you catch me?”
Three children in this pool. Three. Goodbye peace and hello guilt. I immediately ran to Petit Bateau to buy swimsuits for them.
Last night I was with Liesbeth on the terrace of Corso Como 10. Where only trendy fashion people come. Until about 8:00 PM. A stroller was rolled onto the patio. A kilo of toys was dumped on the stylish bistro-table, hamburgers and fries were ordered, and… there was crying. In my neck. And loudly too.
Off to the hotel then. For a lovely, long night where you won’t be disturbed. Eavesdropping mothers know what a rare luxury that is. Until I woke up at 1:0000 AM. And no, it wasn’t on my own. In room 223 (I’m in 224) there seems to be a baby living. With well-developed vocal cords and enormous stamina.
Sigh. I’m going to buy earplugs today. And a gift for my own children. They would never do something like this…
