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Texting the “Boys” Weekend

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I don’t mind when my husband goes away on a boys’ weekend – really – I don’t. I have noticed, however, some fairly significant differences between a boys’ weekend and a girls’ weekend.

golf

For starters, men don’t know how to count.  A boys’ weekend is never forty-eight hours – it’s more like ninety-six hours.  Women have a different word for that – it’s a freakin’ vacation, is what that is. A girls’ weekend on the other hand, starts on Friday and ends on Sunday. It’s. A. Weekend. We’re gone for maybe forty-eight hours, but usually more like thirty-six hours.  That’s ok though, because by my counting, I can plan two girls’ weekends for every one boys’ weekend.

Planning a boys’ weekend is pretty easy too:  pick a date, pack your golf bags and head out the door.  Planning a girls’ weekend involves, um, more.

I’ve noticed most moms, myself included, are exhausted just getting out the door for a girls’ weekend given the Herculean effort involved in organizing a weekend away.  Yet, despite the effortlessness that seems to accompany planning a boys’ weekend, I have noticed that they don’t seem to come home very well rested at all.

During a girls’ weekend, I may text my husband that I arrived safely, ask if he found the casserole in the freezer, and remind him about our son’s baseball game. I would never text my husband asking him, “Can you check on our line of credit?” or better yet, “I talked to the police officer and it’s cool”. There’s not much to text from a girls weekend.  “I ate and I slept” isn’t all that exciting. I could ratchet it up a bit and say, “I laughed so hard that wine came out my nose” but am not sure if anyone at home would be interested in that one either. Or better yet, “spent four hours at the spaspa today – better than sex.” Yeah, I pressed cancel on that one too.

Returning from a boys’ weekend and walking into the house involves the onerous task of dumping the dirty laundry into the hamper and storing the golf clubs in the basement.  Returning from a girls’ weekend and walking into the house, well, it just brings tears to my eyes.

So despite their differences, what happens at a girls’ weekend, stays at a girls’ weekend and for sure, what happens at a boys’ weekend, stays at a boys’ weekend.  Maybe the texts should too.

Soul Sisters Weekend 2014 seems just a little too long away…

Soul Sisters 2011

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in·dulge

[in-duhlj] verb, -dulged, -dulg·ing.

–verb (used without object)

1.  to yield to an inclination or desire; allow oneself to follow one’s will (often followed by in ): Dessert came, but I didn’t indulge[oh – but I did!]. They indulged in unbelievable shopping sprees [or rather spa treatments].

–verb (used with object)

2.  to yield to, satisfy, or gratify (desires, feelings, etc.): to indulge one’s appetite for sweets [‘ahem, or the spa’].

3.  to yield to the wishes or whims of; be lenient or permissive with: to indulge a child [which we did!].

4.  to allow (oneself) to follow one’s will (usually followed by in ): to indulge oneself in reckless spending [or reckless eating].

It had taken weeks of planning and considerable preparation, but, with the help of www.meetingwizard.com, several trips to LCBO and the grocery store and more than one phone call to the Deerhurst Resort spa, the day had arrived.   My bag was packed, the cooler was filled, plenty of food in the house for the family I was abandoning, and as much laundry had been done as possible before my dryer kicked the bucket for good.  I went away for the weekend.   I went away for the weekend without my kids and without my husband.  Just a weekend mind you … less than 48 hours actually.  But I went away for the weekend.  My companions were six other women whom I’ve known my entire life (sister and cousins) to a some I’ve now known the better part of twenty years (my sisters-in-law), and the most adorable 8-month old (my newest cousin) that  I had the delight to meet for the first time.  

Like many of my soul sisters in attendance this weekend, sometimes I cram so much into one day that I feel like a vicious hurricane cutting a swath of achievement and productivity.  Then other days, that same schedule can leave me feeling besieged and exhausted.  When the dust settles, I wonder if perhaps there lie the tender balance of marriage, motherhood and mid-life.  Sigh.  It’s probably much more simple:  some days are just better than others.  I read somewhere it takes both rain and sun to make a rainbow – such is the metaphor of Life! 

After a full day at work, the four-hour drive on a two-lane highway was exhausting and I was hyper-vigilante about moose throughAlgonquinParkright at dusk.  As I walked through the door of the condo, feeling a little less than refreshed, I was quickly ambushed by warm hugs, a cool glass of Pinot Gri and the aromatic smell of a warm meal certain to be seasoned with laughter.  Rain + Sun = Rainbow.  It was a great start to the weekend.

Upon waking up Saturday morning, It was immediately clear that the weather would not cooperate.  Mother Nature clearly has something a girls’ weekend.   While the rain made the run my sister and I undertook as part of our training for the Ottawa Half less than pleasurable, our wet misery evaporated quickly in our hedonistic spa treatments.   An afternoon spent in pure indulgence (see definition above).  Rain + Sun= Rainbow.  

By the time, I returned uber-relaxed, happy hour was underway and the scent of simmering dinner wafted through the condo!  What is better than dinner after a glorious afternoon at the spa?  Dinner that someone else made!  The baby now asleep, we seven women sat around the dinner table for the better part of four hours celebrating (and occasionally griping about) our health, our history, our husbands, our children, our careers, our homes, our loved ones, our futures, our summers, our travels, our weekends, our hobbies, ourselves.  I felt privileged to be part of this auspicious group of seven who had gathered yet again to celebrate ourselves.

The feeling of pure contentment and relaxation lingered upon my return… dinner was an easy spaghetti and salad, the grocery store had closed, and best of all – I remembered the dryer was broken.  No laundry today!  Rain + Sun = Rainbow. 

See if you can pick out the new me …[heh, heh … not]

Did I forget anything?

Posted on

May 13, 2011

Notes to self:

Clean underwear  – check!

Groceries done – check!

Cooler packed – check!

Wine packed  – check!

Running gear – check!

Spa wear – check!

Laundry done – check!

Cell phone – check!

Cell phone charger – check!

Gas topped up – check!

Coffee for the road – check!

Map – check!

Hotel  phone number for hubby – check!

Reading book – check!

Tabloid magazines – check!

Extra food in frig for kids – check!

Extra food in pantry for kids – check!

Alert neighbours of my absence – check!

Number for pizza delivery – check!

Emergency procedures reviewed with family – check!

Summary list of kids’ activities – check!

School homework overview – check!

Sunglasses – check!

Sun roof open – check!

Open road? Check!

Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.

Love you!

See you Sunday!

Love,
Mom

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