Here’s a picture of where Drew and I spent a wonderful, relaxing 46 hours this weekend. Just 75 miles or so north of Manhattan (I’d call it “upstate,” but people who really live upstate would probably laugh), this serene spot is home to an old Victorian mansion-turned inn, a spa, a farm, and a delicious restaurant. The food there was off the hook and I ended up gaining back the four+ pounds I’d lost over the last couple of weeks. All we did was eat and sleep and lounge around; it was awesome.
If you have small kids and have never gone away without them, I highly recommend doing so. I felt a little guilty, especially when I heard that Jackson was crying out, “Mommy! Mommy!” every time he came home from being outside and about and realized I was still gone (oh, the guilt!), and Drew thought it was especially hard to leave him behind. But it was worth it. It’s worth it to have a day or two to enjoy your partner’s company without the distraction of a kid who needs endless attention. It’s worth it to just shut off the parent-side of you a little bit and escape in your own daydreams or a good book (I started reading Life After Life, which I’m really enjoying), a whole entire newspaper, and an entire meal in which you do not have to pick up food that fell out of your child’s mouth all over the floor.
I will say, though, that we were so… what’s the word, wound-up, like two people who hadn’t been out in public in years and had forgotten how to behave like civilized people, that our waiter actually advised us to slow down and chill the fuck out (well, he didn’t say “fuck,” but he may as well have the way he was looking at us like we were barnyard animals). It was our second night at the restaurant. The first night, I was so excited to just be out of the city and have two whole days to relax and stuff my face, that I could not eat fast enough. It was like, the faster I ate, the more fun I could stuff into my weekend. So I was just shoveling food in my face like I hadn’t eaten in weeks. I ate so much, so quickly, that I literally had to leave the restaurant before we paid and go lie down, leaving Drew alone to finish his meal. I mean, one minute, I was all, “Oh my god, this steak, these potatoes, this bread! This margarita! NOM NOM NOM.” And then next minute, I was clutching my stomach, unable to sit upright a second longer or I was going to explode. And then I ran out of the restaurant like a maniac and fell face-first on the bed where I passed out until Drew woke me up 15 minutes later to take out my contacts. So much for a romantic evening.
The next night, after a relaxing day walking the grounds, and sitting in the sauna, and taking naps and a long, warm bubble bath, I was a little more together, but our dinner waiter — the same waiter we’d had the evening before — still felt the need to advise me — both of us, actually — to relax, slow down, and you know, chew our food. It was good advice, too. I even managed to finish dinner and dessert without planting my face in my food.
Here are a couple photos of Drew and me on our second night, after a whole day of doing nothing, celebrating seven years together. If you squint, you can even still see traces of those crazy kids we were the night we met. People probably wanted to advise us to slow down then, too, but I’m glad we did it our own way.
And just for fun, here’s a new favorite of Jackson, taken while we were away. See? He survived, and he looks like he’s even having a pretty good time. Despite being scarred for life because his mommy wasn’t home when he got back. The guilt!