Sometimes you just need your Mom and Dad.

I have learned, over the years, that no matter how competent and in control and grown up you may think you are...sometimes, you just need your Mom and Dad. Even at the ripe old age of 42. Nothing else will do.

So, I have spontaneously decided to pack up the boys and a bunch of their toys to make the long, long drive over the mountains to see my folks. (Hoping, hoping, hoping the pass will be clear, and I won't have to go out in a blizzard to put chains on the tires, like the last time I made this trek in the winter. Yeah, the 8 hour trip that turned into 12 hours. The very same trip in which my boys ended up peeing in the car, because we were stuck in the mountains for so long, and I burst into tears of relief the second I arrived in our driveway at home. Wait a minute...Why am I dong this, again?) Well, hubby has to work his crazy hours all week, anyway, so it's not like we'd be spending any time with him until Christmas Day. I'd just be doing the usual single Mom thing all week long. So, I called Dad, yesterday, to ask if he and Mom would like a last-minute, pre-Christmas visit from me and the little guys.

The minute he said "Hello", I felt like I was about 10 years old again. "Hi, Dad." Hearing the tremor in my voice, he simply asked, "How are you, honey?"

This, of course, turned the tremor into something that probably sounded a little like a cross between sniffling and whimpering, as I struggled to keep it together.

What I wanted to cry out was, "Dad, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE can I come home and just be a kid for a little while again, and you and Mom can take over? I'm so exhausted and empty and discouraged, and I just need somebody else to take the reins for a little while, so I can rest."

Instead, I said, "I'm OK, Dad. I'd just really like to come home for a few days. Would that be OK? We could make it a surprise for Mom. She'll be so excited."

Thus, the plan was set.

I'm so excited. I'm going home. And, for just a few days, there will be somebody taking care of me, for a change. I won't have to do all the cooking. I'll be able to take a nap or two, and maybe even take a bath... I'll take long walks and play in the snow with the boys and my Dad, while my Mom is at home making something warm and yummy for us all to have when we get back. I'll spend at least one full day in my pajamas, letting the boys watch all the cartoon channels we don't have at our place, drinking spiked coffee, and playing cards with my Mom. After the kids are in bed, I'll relax by the fireplace, just talking and laughing with my folks... I'll get filled up again. With love. With optimism. With my usual zest for life.

I can't wait.

If only I could get there without having to drive...

Cheers!