Escape of the Stay at Home Moms Part Deux

Is it bad that I enjoyed my minor surgical procedure yesterday?  But seriously, a getaway from the  kids, drugs and hanging with my best friend/safe ride....it all equals a good time.

Another Thelma and Louise type pic.

That's right, another Wednesday, another escape of the stay at home moms.   This time, I had directions to our final destination.  And sadly unlike our last adventure, this time we weren't meeting any cool national political mentors.  No, this time we were going to a surgery center so I could have my stomach and esophagus scoped.  Yup, an investigative digestion surgery. Whomp, whomp.   Nothing glamorous like the upper eye lift I so desperately want.


Even though it was minor and outpatient, I was a bit nervous.  Nervous that my kids were fighting too much for the sitter, worried they would miss the bus and throw the whole plan off, etc.  Maybe that was why were talking so loudly in the waiting room and I was laughing so much.  Nah, it is more likely that we are just loud and very amused with ourselves most of the time.


They ushered me back to the surgery area where I was a little unnerved.  It looked like a garage and all the patients were lined up to get their oil changed.  We were all just laying there waiting to be wheeled away, just staring at each other.  Even though it creeped me out a little, nothing could take the fun out of this day (except of course a complication during the procedure which for a worrier like me seems very real, but I just pushed it way in the back of my mind).  Once I was suited up with my nice blue hat, my pal Steph came back to keep me company.

I look like I am already on something, but nope, just life-tired.

"This is the first time in 10 years that I have been hooked up to an iv and not taken a baby home after," I laughingly shared.  "I am so glad I am not taking a baby home today!"  We laughed and thought we were hilarious, again.


We also laughed about how this scene is totally our future, keeping each other company at various medical procedures.  


The whole procedure didn't take very long and soon I was back in recovery chatting with Stephanie.  I was pretty out of it and worried that I would be that way most of the day.  I am that person that takes a few days to recover from the occasional Tylenol PM, so anesthesia hangover was worrisome.


We decided it would be a good idea to go out to lunch, especially since I hadn't eaten in forever in preparation for the scope.  So, we went to lunch where again we were talking too loudly and laughing at everything.

We decided dessert was of utmost importance after lunch and chocolate mousse was necessary to help soothe my sore throat.

"We are so much fun," Stephanie informed our waiter.  "People don't know how much fun we are."


"It should be out there," our waiter replied laughing along with us.  Maybe he went back and told his waiter buddies that those two old ladies in his section "are nuts and one of them seems totally whacked out on drugs."  Or just maybe he spread the word about how much fun we are.


After Stephanie dropped me off and my babysitter left, I slept for a few hours while baby Wade napped.  And then we had a nice peaceful evening while the other children asked if I needed help and showered me with love and care.  Whatever, that's not exactly how it went at all. Peyton did ask about it when he got off the bus. "Thanks for asking how it went," I told him appreciatively. "How'd what went?" the ever observant Lucy asked.


Escaping my house is a wonderful, freeing thing.  Even when I am being poked and prodded by doctors.  But coming home is good too.

A little extra TLC from JT.

Although to be completely honest, I did ask (beg) if I could stay overnight at the surgery center.

Escape of the Stay at Home Moms

"And we're off!," we screamed into the wind.  Laughing with hysteria and a wild look in our eyes.


We were off on an adventure.  An adventure of freedom, self expression and rebellion.

My pal Stephanie and I were the new Thelma and Louise.
Except we were taking off in a giant custom van, not a blue Thunderbird convertible.  We weren't smoking cigarettes, we were sucking down lattes.  And we weren't running away for weeks from husbands and boyfriends, we were running away for a couple hours from kids and mom responsibilities.
And hopefully it wouldn't end with a cliff.


We were on our way to a political meeting where we hoped to meet and greet an important senator from Washington.  A woman role model we both admire.


It took a lot to get us out of the house.  Childcare needed to be secured, meet up locations needed to be decided and more.  By the time we were on the road we realized we didn't have an address for the meeting.


"Just start driving," was my pal's good advice.
So I did.


We ended up in a not so nice part of a nearby town, but we felt safe in our giant,sturdy custom van.  Stephanie was trying to remember how to navigate the mean streets where she frequented as a somewhat delinquent youth.  But since that was over 20 years ago, details were sketchy and we just ended up even more lost. 


We had two iphones and an ipad working with us to get us there, but they weren't much use without an address.  


"Oh, watch out a cop," said Stephanie, having a flashback.  


"We aren't doing anything illegal," I reminded her.  "Stupid isn't a crime."


Oh we thought that was soooooo funny.  


Thelma and Louise we were not.  More like younger versions of lame "Golden Girls."  


We had a similar experience one time when we ran away on a trip to Washington, D.C. together.  Beyond giddy, we almost skipped off the plane and onto the bus that would take us where we wanted to go (another political adventure). Problem was we weren't exactly sure then either exactly where we wanted/needed to go.  


We rode that bus round and round in the circle around Reagan National Airport.  


Until finally, a well-traveled looking business man took pity on us.  He asked us where we were headed and pointed us in the right direction.  "Are you guys from Minnesota?" he asked not being able to conceal his amusement with us/at us.  Maybe our Michigan accents are thicker than we realized.  


I call it our Rose Nylund, or our Golden Girl moment.


You see, as cliche stay-at-home mothers it feels damn good to run away.  It feels even better to run away on a purposeful, politically-minded mini adventure with a pal.


So we may get the details muddled, but we have a hell of a time.

Steph, Debbie Wasserman Schultz (the DNC chairwoman) and me and my distracting flower pin.

And on this particular morning, we made it to our meeting.  We met our role model.  

And we felt like we mattered outside of our little worlds.  And it felt f#*@ing great.

On another note, someone didn't get the family memo about my mission to not forget about Thanksgiving. Santa socks to school Lucy? Really?   

I cannot believe it has been 20 years since this movie came out.  I also cannot believe "at the age of 37" in the Marianne Faithfull song used to seem sooooo old.

Never gets old to me...