The other night I woke up in the middle of the night with a really big fear that something would go wrong on my trip this weekend and something bad would happen to me and I wouldn't come back. That I would die. I know it sounds crazy, like one of those middle-of-the-night irrational fear episodes....except it's kind of haunted me. Rationally I know I will have a great time with my friends and enjoy a well-deserved weekend away from being a mommy and a wife. But. But. What if, in my selfishness, I have placed myself in a position of danger? What if there is another major earthquake in the bay area while I'm there and I drive off the Bay Bridge? (God I will never forget that neverending news footage from 1989) What if I am out walking and I get hit by a car and die? What if I have cancer? What if something happens to Monkeyboy while I'm away having my selfish weekend and I regret it for the rest of my life and can never again get out of bed?
In my sane moments, I know this is my Mother's Guilt rearing it's ugly head. I have oodles of Mother's Guilt, so much I could fill a suitcase with it every day and donate it to the Salvation Army and still have enough leftover to drive me and both Monkeys nuts. How dare I take a weekend to myself - MOTHERS DAY! of all days. It would serve me right if something bad were to befall me. Everyone will say "And it happened on Mother's Day Weekend" while shaking their heads at my selfishness and my bad luck. No one is disputing I need some time off. But......I guess my Mother's Guilt is telling me that instead of counting down the minutes until I leave with every shriek, every "Mooooooommmmmmmmyyyyyyy!", every "NO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME TAKE A BATH", I should hoarde the precious moments with my Monkeyboy, save them in a corner of my heart so I can take them out while I'm gone and look at them. Line them up in a pretty little row and know what a great thing I have waiting for me when I get home.