The Momoir Project

by Jen Andersen

We are locked and loaded. Two loud sons snugly nestled into their car seats. The nonstop chatter and infant squalling are only slightly softer in the smaller space of the car with the anticipation of adventure. We are on an adventure, yes, in your dreams, sweet ones — literally. I slowly turn the ignition and quickly switch the brain-embedding kid songs to my radio station, dialing it to a soft pitch and, smiling, I look back to check. My 3-year-old looks at me with his impish grin and shining eyes. He has that look of tiredness, but he is fighting it with unbelievable strength. His body is moving about trying to keep himself awake. His baby brother lets out another shriek.

I slowly dial the heat up to a cozy level. The warmth slowly comes out and overtakes the cool air. Pushing the guilt back, I put the car into gear and pull out, my mind darting. I don’t yet know our destination.

Ten minutes later, I am driving slowly through a nearby neighborhood, looking at the homes mine aspires to be – the inviting verandas, the crisp landscaping, the lack of toys littering the yard. I notice suddenly the volume has dwindled behind me. I dare a look back. Jackpot. They are fast asleep. I find a nice spot to park and pull over. I leave the radio on low, its music lulling my brain from its bedlam.

Out come the book, the journal, the mommy snacks and…. breathe. An escape so profound, so newly defined by motherhood. The kids are still here but I’ve found a loophole. While they are safely and sleepily ensconced behind me, I can catch up on the one paper a week I get (yet never have time to finish), write a few thoughts and eat a treat solely for me. I gaze out at a new vista, armchair traveler that I’ve become. If I’m lucky, I will have sourced out a drive-thru that delivers me a steaming coffee I can grasp my hands around while enjoying this rare me moment, my urban getaway, ignoring of all the dust and pesky tasks at home.

I watch carefree-looking, well-rested people walk by and wonder when I might feel that look of calmness again. I relish in this one moment of feeling unattached, free of grabbing hands and goo and spit-up and dog hair. I am me. Again.

Perfect mom I am not. Environmentally friendly? Two strikes. But this is what I need on the occasional gray day when my patience has sapped, the coffee pot is empty and I’ve tried uncountable times to a) find mutually entertaining, yet educational activities, b) clean house, c) complete just one task uninterrupted, or d) stay sane. It is a slice of time, a step back I savor, that allows me to plunge back into the full throttle of motherhood, with a smile on my face and a breath of fresh air.

Jen Andersen is the winner of The Momoir Project/Movies For Mommies Writing Contest. When Jen is not escaping with boys in tow, she juggles motherhood and attempts to write.  She is also a high school teacher and career counsellor.

Writing Start: ESCAPE