Randomly Tandemly: Mommy's Paradise

Let me be the first in line to admit that I am a bad blogger. A naughty, naughty blogger who has already defeated her own purpose in starting this blog. My intent was to give myself a creative writing outlet and to use said outlet regularly.
Life - 2, Keelie - 0.

About a month ago, the game plan was to post about what my perfect "Mom's Vacation" would look like. Par for the course, life had other ideas. Some noise about me working, taking care of my house, and being a parent. To which I say, Who decided I needed this much responsibility? Oh wait, I did. Let me just add that this "responsibility" bill of goods was sold to me under the guise of "freedom to make my own choices"... highly overrated. Buyer beware.

This is precisely WHY I need the vacation. Scratch that. I don't need a vacation. I need a sabbatical. I'm envious of moms I read about in magazines, who somehow carve out personal time for themselves and their hobbies/pursuits, without feeling like selfish ogres... and without letting their families (immediate and extended) make them feel like ogres. If I'm playing with my kid, I'm neglecting housework... if I'm doing housework, I'm neglecting my kid... if I'm getting desperately needed sleep, I'm neglecting exercising... if I'm doing household projects, I'm neglecting homework... if I'm taking the time to shower, I'm neglecting chores or errands... if I'm working late, I'm neglecting household projects. The list goes on.

All signs point to my sabbatical including two things: an education on myself at home and on my own.

First things first. I need someone to come live with me and teach me how to organize my own life. Yes, I'm that lame. I don't mean someone to stand there and make suggestions while passing judgement. I mean, live with me for a few months and tell me, "these are the changes we're going to try and we'll find what suits YOU best." Chalk this up to years of being programmed to be so paranoid about making the "wrong" decision that I have trouble making ANY decision. Hey, at least no one can tell me denial ain't just a river in Egypt. I own that sickness... and prefer to call it Avoidinitis.

Part deux of this sabbatical: I need time away, mostly by myself. (Although, I couldn't bare to be away from my kiddo more than 1 week at a time. So someone would have to transport her to visit me whenever I wanted, for as long as I wanted.) I just think I'm at a point in my life where I've realized I've never really done anything by myself for more than 3 months, and I feel like I've missed out. Oh, hello 30's! So this is what you look like? Hmph... I expected more.

So on my own, I need to soak up sun and sea on isolated beaches, wander foreign cities, see amazing vistas, and experience other cultures. I'm thinking about a year of this would do nicely. I would have my own personal travel agent at my beckoned call to make any arrangements my heart desired. Coordinate the transportation to get me there, book my tours, make my reservations, get my packing done, etc. Dinner in a French cafe? Done. Sailing on the South China Sea? Done. Concert on the Danube? Done. Weekend in Cortona with plenty of wine and spending money for the marketplace? Done. Done. Done. And I'd have unlimited means to make it happen. First class all the way, baby.

I don't think any of this is too much to ask, and I'm inclined to think my creating human life lends itself to a bit of entitlement here. In reality - it looks like I'll be squaring up for some drinks with good friends next weekend. Not exactly Tahiti, but for a few hours, Margaritaville will do.