MARY ANN FITZMORRIS / L’Observateur / March 4, 2000

It was radical, I tell you. My beloved spouse and I did something downright radical last week.

For the first time in our marriage we left the kids and went off on our own.

This is something we could have done many times before, but I have always followed a simple rule; If I’m going to spend the entire time worrying, what’s the point? A few women I know couldn’t disagree more. I have a friend who went toChina for two weeks and left her three year old here with her sister. Not the3-year-old’s sister; her own sister. (Just in case you were wondering.)But most of the women in my circle subscribe to the same creed I do. Aclose friend’s husband gave her a fortieth birthday present trip to San Francisco. She was traumatized. I vigorously encouraged her to go, realizing Ihad no credibility in these matters. When she pointed this out I said I’d do it ifI had a place to leave the kids. I followed that idle excuse with, “You first.”Off she went into those uncharted waters. Four days in sunny California and she came back liking her husband! When that feeling lasted for three weeks I decided this idea had real merit.

My anniversary rolled around recently and this same friend offered to board the kids. I had no feelings of trepidation until two days before, when herhusband’s temperature registered 105. My plans evaporated faster than the perspiration on his forehead! Another good friend whose kids play with mine seemed a good candidate, since my children have often been overnight guests there. As luck wouldhave it, she had her own plans for that evening and her kids were to be tucked away at her mother’s.

In a quick mental rundown of all our friends, all the others were eliminated for one reason or the other, mostly logistical. My kids began to panic as aweekend at Grandma’s seemed imminent, but that also had too many loose ends.

Then I thought of a relative we rarely see. The kids have a mutually greattime; we just don’t often get together. That made the overnightarrangement unsettling for me since the house was unfamiliar.

I recalled my paranoid philosophy and wanted to cancel, since I was on worry overload. But my husband insisted I get a grip. We left as scheduled and itwas amazing how easy it was to adopt a new mantra: Out of sight, out of mind.

All right, I confess, we were only an hour away at John Folse’s incredible Bittersweet Plantation in Donaldsonville, so my hubris is phony.

Nevertheless, we spent a really swell 24 hours with no kids. My husband and Ihad an entire day of conversations that ran a natural course. I was almostgrateful at dinner when the waiter interrupted us to inquire about our dinner selections. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have a thought and see it throughto completion.

Now that I remember, I like it! I was relaxed. We got no emergency phonecalls, and we didn’t call. When we arrived to pick up the kids both were toobusy to come say hello. My daughter had been playing with the girls. It was abeauty parlor game, so safe they didn’t even use a curling iron.

In stark contrast to that, my son and his pals were in a 4-foot-deep trench they had dug. Box of matches in hand, and they were blowing up plasticsoldiers with embedded fireworks. Since they were jumping into and out of the trench it’s a good thing the machete they were using was a few feet away – right next to the hatchet. I could practically hear the panting of those exhausted guardian angels as I stood there.

When the bickering began two minutes into the drive home, I began to fantasize about future childless trips. I’ll have to call my friend to get somedetails about China, and I’m sure the relatives with the machete will be glad to “watch” the children.

It’s time those kids learn to look after themselves anyway.Back to Top

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