Until the release night 2 weeks before he left. Then, I wasn't so sure. While I'm mostly back to normal post surgery--meaning that I can cook and clean like before--I'm still struggling with some aspects. In some ways, it reminds me of one of my break-ups in college--the first few weeks were so hard, but each week after it got easier. There started to be more space in between the drastic ups and downs on the roller coaster of recovery. At the beginning of January, I was ready to attack the world. I was determined to resume normal life again. I went sledding. I started cooking more and cleaning more. I had some really great victory moments--some very awesome ups. However, I was surprised to hit some downs--some really really low and deep downs. The biggest one was release night, the night I try to make fun to save myself from, well, myself and being alone for the night with the kids.
Release night was my third night in a week of putting the kids to bed all on my own. The first two, I felt like I handled really well, especially considering how much assistance I've had since my surgery. As per tradition, on release night, we headed out of the house. We grabbed food at the drive thru so that we would have more time to play at the Children's Museum. We pulled up to the children's museum, and I carefully explained, "Okay guys, we only have an hour here. I don't want any fits when it is time to leave. If that's not going to be enough time, then we can just not go." They agreed to the one hour. Then it was time to leave. Michael did his best to hold it together, and Rachel too. Michael is really not good about leaving fun things--he more often than not throws some major tantrums. I was proud of how he held it together, but then as we were leaving, I made the mistake of stopping in front of the gift shop to put Gabe's coat on. Michael asked for a toy, and when I said no, he started demanding it. Long story short, we all ended up back in the car with me spitting mad at my kids. And I still had to get them in bed. Alone.
I somehow managed it, but spent the rest of the night stewing--angry at them and angry at myself. Why could I not handle one night on my own without this kind of disaster? And how in the world was I going to handle a week without Brian? What was wrong with me anyway? I was always going to rock this mom thing--there had never been a doubt as I was growing up--and here I was, completely blowing it, feeling like a total wimp. I thought of my sister and her husband's three deployments. I felt so useless that the thought of 5 nights was making me want to run away.
The next day, my mom texted me to say that a meeting she needed to attend the week of Brian's conference got canceled and so she could come down and stay with the kids, thus allowing me to go to San Jose with Brian. It was like I was drowning and someone reached out to pull me out of the water. Within the next two days, I had booked tickets and started making plans for San Jose.
The cheapest flight for Sunday, February 5th, left at 6:20 in the morning. This meant a 4 a.m. ish house departure. My flight also had a layover in Denver. Because of these two things, we decided that Brian would fly to San Jose with Gabe, and I would bring him home on my more ideal, direct flight from San Jose to Salt Lake.
(I felt like he was too young to leave without his parents for 5 days, even though my mom offered to keep him. This made Michael pretty upset. He said, "Well, then I'm going too." I said, "Oh Buddy, that would be so fun, but I can't afford your ticket and Gabe flies free." He replied with, "Well, you can just leave Gabe then." "Well, he's too young to go that many days without his mom and dad." Always the logical one, Michael retorted, "Well, some kids' parents die, and they do just fine." Oh sweet son, that isn't true at all, but how do you explain to a seven-year-old that just because a person is outwardly functioning does not mean that they are just fine? So, I simply said, "I'm taking Gabe, and you're going to stay and have fun with Grandma and Grandpa." )
Brian apologized that I had to have a layover, and I responded, "Are you kidding? I get two take-offs and a day without kids!" He really got the short straw on this pull. Security was a breeze with only me. And so was waiting to board. And boarding was amazingly easy! I got to sleep on the flight to Denver and on the flight to San Jose. I bravely checked into my first rental car booked with me as the driver. I didn't have a carseat to buckle in, or a kid to buckle into the said carseat. I got my phone ready for GPS and drove to the closest LDS Chapel for church. I got to listen to the meeting because there were no kids to take care of. It was pretty awesome--other than I felt really tired and gross from sleeping on the plane.
After Sacrament meeting, I headed up to the Oakland Temple.
And I saw missionaries wearing lava lavas.
The Oakland temple also has an upper garden terrace. From the temple grounds, you see this view of San Francisco, just across the bay. From here, I got my first view of the Golden Gate Bridge. You can see it in this picture--a slight line a third from the right on the horizon line.
There is a statue of two children next to the Visitor's Center. The two children are looking at the temple. I tried to get a good angle on it, but this is the best I could get:
After visiting Oakland, I drove back to the hotel in San Jose and had dinner by myself--which was the worst part of the day, but it was still really nice to just be alone and not have to worry about anyone.
Meanwhile, back in Utah, my parents got the kids ready for church since Brian had meetings. Brian apparently got a little nervous about flying alone with one of the kids--he'd never done it before. He got a lot of funny looks from his co-workers who were on the flight when he showed up with Gabe. Despite the fact that Gabe didn't want to go to sleep (by then it was his bedtime), Brian said the flight went really well, and Brian was proud of himself for handling his first solo dad flight like a boss. And I was there to pick them up from the airport.
The next day, Brian did this:
On Tuesday, we took it easy. I had originally planned to head to San Francisco, but the forecast said that it would be the rainiest day of the week. So Gabe took a bath,
When we got back to the hotel, I discovered a major blowout had occurred, so Gabe got another bath before his nap, and I chastised Gabe about having to rinse out poopy clothes when I was supposed to be having a break. But how can anyone be mad at this face?
By this time, I was really into my book, so I basically just read. I felt a little guilty for not sightseeing more, but then I remembered that this was my mini vacation and I could spend it however I wanted, and I really liked having time to just read. So I did. And when Brian got home, we headed out for dinner, passing this strange window display
on our way to the Thai restaurant.
The next day, I finally went to San Francisco, and Brian did more of this stuff:
Gabe and I drove up to Oakland and crossed the bay on the incredible Bay Bridge:
After our bay cruise, we hopped on a double decker bus to get a tour of the city. By that point, we didn't have much time before we needed to head back to San Jose. I really wanted to do the two hour tour, but Gabe had been uncooperative that morning when we were trying to get out the door, and really everything just takes twice as long with kids, so I had to settle for the 1 hour tour. I had wanted to ride the trolley too, but we just didn't have time. But we saw some awesome buildings and our tour guide was really awesome about helping me with Gabe. He even got the stroller ready for me when it was time to get off.
After the tour, we grabbed a few things in a gift shop and then headed back to the car. By then, rush hour was in full swing, and I almost lost my new love for San Francisco as I tried to make my way back to a free way after going through the downtown area. The stoplights Downtown are not hanging over the street like every where else. Instead, they are off the side of the street, like stop signs. With all the pedestrians, one way streets, and traffic, I accidentally ran a few red lights. I think 2. Oops!
We finally got going on a freeway and met Brian at the hotel. We had a quick dinner and then joined his coworkers for shakes at an amazing shake shop. Then, we packed and went to bed.
The next day, we finished packing and Gabe and I headed to the airport. Just as we were about to leave, Brian decided it would help me out a lot if he went with us. He helped us check in the rental car and then check in to our flight. For the first time in our travels with infants, they actually asked to see a shot record or a birth certificate, which Brian didn't bring with him. They were going to make us pay for a seat for Gabe! We were so frustrated and frazzled! We weren't upset with the Southwest lady, because she was doing her job, but she wouldn't budge! I haven't even ordered Gabe's official birth certificate yet. Thankfully, my mom was at our house and she emailed me a copy of the birth certificate the hospital gave us, which I had scanned onto the computer. The lady accepted that documentation and Gabe and I were off!
Finally, we made it home, and the reunion of these two brothers was pretty sweet:
When my mom picked me up, she asked if I got enough of a break. The answer is I don't know. I don't think this life is meant for long breaks, because then we'd never be able to come back to it. What I do know is that I had a wonderful time, I was grateful for the opportunity to forget about life for a little bit, and I was grateful that my parents helped make it happen.