Mom's Weekend Escape

I'm going through airport security, and I'm marveling at the experience. Believe me, it's not that I'm amazed at the proper use of the grey bins versus the brown bins, or at the Grandma being led off for her pat down.  I'm marveling at how light I'm traveling.  Not only is this just a short weekend trip, I'm traveling alone.

I haven't traveled for business for years, and family vacations include, well, family. With husband, daughter, and often Grandpa in tow, I have a constant background process running. "Where is everybody? Do we still have all our carry-on items? Do I look like a trash can?"

Of course, I love and appreciate my family, and we've been on some great trips together.

But today, I left them at home while I fly off to Milwaukee for my high school girlfriend's daughter's wedding. (Note: my high school girlfriend isn't in high school any more). Though I considered bringing the whole family to the wedding, for a variety of reasons, in the end, it's just me, and I'm loving it.

Just one little roll-along bag and my purse. Hungry?  I buy something and eat it.  I get to sit in the aisle seat.  I've got coffee, a pen, and four hours of uninterrupted flight time. It's just me and my own thoughts, and they are not about work or fascinating domestic decisions like whether to run the dishwasher next or fold the whites.

I savor a bite of my cheese danish, and I'm not sharing.  I eat it before the Max's Opera Cafe pastrami sandwich, because, well, I can;  I'm not setting an example for anyone today. Besides, if there is turbulence and I have to put my tray table up, I want to be sure to have had dessert. 

When I arrive in sunny Milwaukee, I enjoy the rehearsal dinner festivities, but also the hotel room that's just for me. I sleep in the middle of the bed, and set the thermostat to Temperature Me. I put my few clothes in the closet and drawers, and put away the suitcase. I don't trip over other people's shoes, and the room stays the way I want it. In the morning, I'm the first in the shower, and have breakfast whenever I'm ready. Silly me, to have always associated Milwaukee with beer and bratwurst rather than the center of luxurious living that I now know it to be.

At the wedding, I visit with my high school girlfriends (who, note again, aren't actually in high school anymore) and I don't worry if my family has no one to talk to while we chatter on and on. Sure, much of the chatter is about our families, but it is chatter about our families that is not interrupted by our families.

It's a short trip, so I get up early Sunday to catch my plane home. Another four hours of peaceful quiet time. I hope the plane is on time, though. I don't want to miss the last match of my daughter's volleyball tournament.