Our first weekend away

This picture cracks me up; we look like we are goofy teenagers at prom, excited and giddy with anticipation but also nervously clutching each other. I also love how (and it's hard to tell from the photo) we match; Leeor's blue button-down one of the exact same shades on the sweet dress he (and Avi) picked out for me one of my working Saturdays. I wish I had a better photo of the dress but it was unseasonably cold in Napa this weekend.

My purple faux-leather H&M purse (also a gift from my man because he knows purple is my favorite color and) is filled to the brim with stuff I in no way need during this night out and yet-- it hangs obligatorily from my arm like a security blanket as I am a little out-of-sorts away from the kids for the first time.

All weekend, when people asked how old the kids are, I guiltily answered, "Avi is 3-and-change; Lilit is almost one." I mostly felt guilt about the latter; two nights away from my girl who isn't quite one year old? Dr. Sears would not approve.

While the hardest part of the weekend was not nursing her to sleep at night, it seems I was alone in that difficulty, as Lilit had no problem whatsoever turning in like clockwork at 7:30 each night, swathed in the loving arms of each of her grandmothers. Saba and Safta took the first night, even though Safta fell sick with a stomach bug, she somehow managed to also enjoy her time with the kids. Grandparents are amazing. My mom arrived Saturday afternoon and powered through a late night (Avi had fallen asleep on the couch late in the afternoon and therefore did not turn in until almost 10 o'clock that night, Grandma dutifully at his side after he plaintively asked if she could "help him sleep") only to have an early morning wake-up call from little sister, who decided she was finally ready for mommy to be home.

I was right there with her. After a fabulous, decadent night with our friends on Friday, I awoke in a mild panic Saturday morning, nothing that French toast souffle, bacon and lattes couldn't cure. Also a good long session with my breast pump (thank you, a million, seriously, Mollie. This Medela is on its last wheezy legs but she still gets the job done!) helped to ease the literal pain I felt to be away from my girl.

We had a day rich with Napa's best kitsch (a tour of an Italian castle, replete with torture chamber) as well as its oldest and most nouveau touches (a private tasting at a new Mondavi endeavor, Continuum, which was so stunningly situated high in the hills). Earlier in the day, Amber and I had gotten manicures in town, a detail Avi noted almost immediately upon our return.

My mood dipped inexplicably in the afternoon. The only explanation I could think of was food-related; I simply did not feel hungry during the appointed lunch time, a mere two hours after we'd stuffed ourselves with B&B fare, so I did not order a burger at the famously good burger place. Big mistake. I found myself eating an entire overly-priced chocolate bar at the castle in order to get a little nourishment but it was no good; I felt spacey and ultimately empty. I missed the kids so much! Then I took it further after a jacuzzi tub (there was one in our room!) and tearfully expressed to Leeor that perhaps I still haven't fully reclaimed myself, that our kids are still so young. He was wide-eyed and not sure what to say, so in love with me and better suited to be away from the kids than I as he's been away for work many times in the past 4 years while I simply have not.

We sat in vintage, plushy blue chairs, ate takeout Chinese and watched sitcoms on his laptop. I was out of sorts so I went to bed to read and fell asleep after a few pages. Leeor lovingly shelved my book (will I ever finish And the Band Played on? I hope so, because I bought a novel I'd really like to devour on our way home today but feel a sense of obligation to finish the nonfiction, like eating my dinner before I snarf my dessert) and turned out the lights.

It was so good for us to be together without the kids, to also have moments of solitude sandwiched between shared grown-up bliss. Our friends are so generous to have invited us up for the weekend, our parents so wonderful to tend to our kids.

I joked with my mom this afternoon as we walked back from a jazz festival in Berkeley, both kids crashed out, Avi completely reclined in the stroller after two giant melt-downs, Lilit asleep in the ergo, suckling away, "I wonder when we will go away by ourselves again?" and she answered, "Probably not for a long time, honey!" and I laughed because it felt so true.

It was such a big deal to be away this weekend, but also not a big deal at all. As we drove back home, which took less than an hour, I wondered how I might merge my lighter, springier self with the Mama I have become, somewhat neurotic, definitely more tightly wound around the kids than I am when I am one dirty martini into the evening.

Ultimately (and this is after the kids have gone to bed so idealization is creeping in), I realize we are irrevocably changed by our children in the most wonderful ways. All the difficulty along the way means that we grow and evolve too profoundly to realize most of the time. Getting a little grown-up time was like getting a hit of some super-addictive drug--I want more! It's so good!

But I also couldn't wait to come home, was aching to hold these sweet babies we have the honor to parent. I could hardly say goodbye to John and Amber, our deeply generous friends, because Lilit was nursing away and Avi was burrowing into my free arm, his eyes huge and anxious and beautiful with love for his family. I know just how he feels. It's good to be home.