Posted on | February 28, 2013 | 2 Comments
After every milestone, there’s a bit of a let down.
When I got back from my honeymoon, I felt a little sad that I’d never have another wedding and honeymoon. (HA!) When my ex told me there would be no more children, I got a lot sad that J would be an only child. When my ex told me he didn’t want to be married anymore, I got very very sad that J wouldn’t have a “traditional” family anymore.
And every time I go on vacation, the reality of coming back to my life is like a swift kick to the gut. Everything just sucks more after a great trip, doesn’t it? Your job is more tedious, your house is dirtier, your kids complain more… hell, even your clothes all suddenly suck in every imaginable way. It’s like the world paused for the brief time you were gone and all the shit you were avoiding collected in piles, ready to dump down on your head like one of those water buckets over the door tricks. After returning from running at Disney, I am a big soaking wet mess.
This morning, J cried because he didn’t want to go to school and I cried because I didn’t want to come to work. We’re both sick and tired. We’re both wishing we were magically back at Disney World where even rainstorms are fun because they pin you up against the wall with your parents/grandparents and you watch the people get soaking wet as they run by in flip flops and white t-shirts. Everything about our vacation was awesome… not just the races. J’s face as he met the characters, the kisses he sweetly placed on their over-sized heads, the pure joy at flying in the air around on Dumbo’s back… everything. Sure, we spent way too much money. Sure, we came back sick and broke and planning the next trip… but being there was just amazing. Disney through the eyes of a child is more beautiful than any place on Earth.
And now being back to our dingy house and my over-crowded, over-flowing office is just torture. It’s like being hit hard with your own reality… the realization that you’re not Paris Hilton or some other socialite with the funds and time to pamper both yourself and your child at all times. This reality of working to get by, working to pay the bills, working to put food on the table? It’s not all that glamorous.
Sometimes I wonder if going away is even worth it, when I come back so utterly let down by my own reality. I should be basking in the fact that I ran and completed a half marathon but all I keep thinking is… what now?