Wednesday, August 17, 2011

coming home

I wrote this on a piece of hotel stationary the night before we left India:

It's been a wonderful two weeks in India, and we were traveling more than four weeks in the US before that - to the beach, to visit family, etc etc. So we will be going home to New York after nearly seven weeks away.

And I'll admit is here: I'm nervous. I'm nervous about going back to our life, back to it's being just me and the kids. During the travel before India I enjoyed the kids almost more than I ever have. Mitch says sarcastically, "It's nice to be on vacation," but that's not it. I mean, that's some of it, certainly, but not the meat. It's not just that I've been freed from my normal household duties and all that; it's the lack of lonesomeness when other family members are around, and the hugeness of the help in having other adults nearby for the kids to engage with. Not just me. It's so much pressure for me, to be the only one responsible for their care, their entertainment, their sense of safety and freedom and well being.

Is it just that I put too much pressure on myself? Perhaps it's about reframing my role as a mother. What indeed is my role, my responsibility?

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