Training & Conditioning

In a few weeks, I’m going on a big trip.  A great trip.  One that I’ve been trying to take for 20 years.  I can’t believe it’s almost here.

And while I’m beyond excited to get going, it will also be the first time I’ve left my kids for an entire week.  Although I tell myself around 7pm every night that this will not be a tough separation, the reality is that it may prove to be harder than I am anticipating.

So there’s really only one prudent thing to do:  Train and condition for this separation from my kids.

I mean, you can’t just run a marathon without preparing for it, right?  Or, as my sister would say, you can’t spend eight hours reaching across a roulette table without stretching your calves.  Same principle applies here.

With this spirit of logic and responsibility in mind, I’m heading to Manhattan tonight with a few of my good friends for a girls’ night out.  We’re going to a great restaurant that is far cooler than we are, and we’re leaving our husbands behind in the burbs for the evening to hang with the kids.  In my absence, it will be solely up to my husband to do the Saturday evening essentials.  Like position oneself strategically on the sidewalk around 7 or 8pm, while appearing to do outdoor chores, to get all the neighborhood gossip.

All women need this change in routine and scenery once in a while, and this just happens to be well-timed with my Kids Separation Preparedness Plan.  Everybody wins.  Well, except for the hipster twenty-something waiter who will roll his eyes at the lushy group of socially deprived moms seated in his section — as he wonders how the hell we scored this reservation at 8pm on a Saturday.

As this is just a baby step in my training program, I’m keeping my goals small and manageable this evening:

• I will shower before dinner and wear clothing that has no remnants of ice pops, goldfish crackers or chocolate milk.
• I will eat dinner without cutting anyone else’s food.
• I will drink wine that was not brought out to my car in a case by my favorite Trader Joe’s employee.  
• I will, when participating in catty gossip, curse freely without spelling.  As in: “I mean, what the F-U-C-K was that about?”
• I will not listen to any music in the car that involves The Fresh Beat Band or any character created by Disney or Nick Jr.
• I will not worry if I miss an opportunity for a life lesson when an emaciated 22 year-old in stilettos crushes my feet in an attempt to get to the bar first. {You’ll never win that race, my pretty.}
• I will not wait on anyone.  Or rearrange food on a plate to ensure that the pasta and the ketchup ARE NOT, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, TOUCHING EACH OTHER. 

{Note to husband on that last point: The kids will go apoplectic if you don’t do this while I’m out.  Just FYI.}

These seem like reasonable goals, no?  I’m totally open to suggestions if you think I’ve missed anything.  Because training properly is important.

And I’m taking it very seriously.