Oh, but wait. It is never a break whether I stay or go, as these two people are mine to care for. Left here to my own devices, I could enroll Lily is some sort of camp, mind expanding experience that she could enjoy with her friends or other kids and then come home to her own toys in her own room with her sister in the life that she is comfortable and familiar with. Or I could pack up the two girls and myself, board a plan to somewhere, my parents' house say, go through Customs and Immigration on both sides and a nasty 3 hour and change flight and find myself at some time pushing or pulling one while carrying the other and all the accessories required to travel with children. Only to have to take care of them in a house that has not been child-proofed and has too many expensive bits and bobs that dazzle the little girl mind. Hmmm. So what did I do during my Spring Break?
It was not the worst experience of my life. I think I improve dramatically with each extended break on my own. At first, Didier would dread the school holidays and breaks, getting a sense that craziness was about to reveal itself in the face and demeanor of his lovely bride. Me. Craziness. I cannot even deny it. In the beginning I would be so ambitious, reviewing home projects on the Internet, papier mache, homemade clay, fingerpaints, popsicle stick architecture. I would plan a swim time, car washing (There is nothing wrong with getting some work done during this time and besides, cleaning the car is a lot of fun, said the taskmaster.), fancy lunches with opened face sandwiches from which the girls would eat only the bread or the cheese, but never together. I figured we could go for little drives to the store or the playground but then the thought of the unregulated, hardly safe, certainly scorching hot play equipment or faraway parking space at the grocery store left me with visions of 24 hour medical center visitation and I would back off.
This week off, Lily went to ArtSplash (www.artsplashbarbados.com) from 8 until 12:30. The theme for the week was Alice in Wonderland and they made beautiful work of the Cheshire cat and worked on sandwich boards of playing cards. Lily made a book called "Lily's Wonderland" with a claymation cover and wonderful watercolors and pen and ink drawings. She made a little bunny rabbit out of clay and put some of her shells inside and has since asked me hourly if she would be going back. She loves art making, something that makes her artist parents very excited and proud.
Though she was gone just 4 1/2 hours each day, Lily returned contemplative, mind blown open with ideas, and enthusiastic about seeing her baby sister who was, as expected, nearly in a state of hysteria on Lily's return. There would be 6 or 7 more hours to go before Didier's arrival, but somehow I felt able to endure with a morning spent away. That is, of course, until the hitting or screaming often caused by a lack of sharing began. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Did Lily want the toy Virginie was playing with before Virginie picked it up? or did Virginie pick it up because she knew Lily wanted it? These are questions for the Oracle. I do not know. But I do know that the road to time out was well worn this week with smacks, crying, apologies, rinse and repeat. In between the visits to the time out guestroom, we ate noodles and pasta, not to be confused with each other, chicken tenders and fries made from scratch and fried up in the fryer, popsicles, popsicles, popsicles. We played on the swings, camped out in the tents, walked the garden looking for "seeds," who knows what the heck those are, but Lily did find a trove of them. They've all been replanted. Let's see what grows, maybe a beanstalk.
There were castles built and knocked down, an occasional review of school vocabulary words, lots of visits with girlfriends also home from school, and lots of lying around naked chatting, singing songs by Lady Gaga, The Waka Waka song from the World Cup, and Virginie's rousing renditions of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, the ABC song, and Baba Black Sheep for anyone on Skype who cared, or did not, to hear them performed. The days were long, but they went by painlessly, though the evening rituals done alone reminded me of how much I miss company, someone older than five to spend the time with, someone to share my thoughts, to witness the depths of insanity one can sink to trying to persuade, cajole, implore small people to do the smallest of tasks. But one day followed the next and without too much fanfare we'd made it to the weekend.
We ended our extended school hiatus at a Grand National Horse Race party, where I won some money (or should rephrase, with the addition of Lily and Virginie in my corner, I won something as I never, ever, ever win contests or betting games like that) and where the girls got their full on swim, run in the garden, jump on the trampoline, dress up, face painted good time that "was not anyone's birthday" according to Lily, and Mommy got to have a few glasses of wine and chat with adults.
Nearly three weeks off of school seems like too much to me, even still, but I am grateful for the relationship that is developing between my girls and me. I asked God to give me strength about thirty times a day, but many of those times I was giggling. Sure, this break took me off my program. There has been little writing, no exercise, hardly any sleep. But as I shared with the girls, listened to the girls, played with the girls, kissed and cuddled the girls I discovered that loving them, being in love with them and allowing them to love me has given me the strength I called out for.
Before you gag on all the sweetness and sugar though, please know that Tuesday morning came and I leaped out of bed to waiting ironed uniforms, packed lunches, and cleaned carseats, all the better to get those people back to school quicker. I love them, but am so ready for my spring break.
(c) Copyright 2011. City Mom in the Jungle.
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