He left today. He (sort of) walked out the door–2 suitcases only ounces under 50 lbs each, the carryon strapped to his back, and the backpack on his chest like a Baby Bjorn sort of slowed him down a bit. He’s en route to Beijing right now and will be for a good while longer. Yeah, he’s not even remotely near that end point yet. Doesn’t help that he was delayed for 2 hours because…and I’m not joking…the North Pole was too cold and they were worried about fuel freezing or something seemingly crazy like that. They actually had to change course. Too bad his plane was full of Chinese people who weren’t interested in a bunch of Santa jokes. That cold North Pole thing could have gotten a lot of comedic mileage.
So, what’s a girl to do when her husband leaves to bring Christmas to China? Go to the theater, of course.
I knew I was a little bit crazy to plan a night at the theater in Philly with all four children the day Mark leaves for China. But, I was offered tickets. And, it was Potted Potter, a 70-minute parody of all 7 Harry Potter books performed by 2 guys only. I had to take them. My friend told me I wasn’t crazy, just very brave. Very brave and crazy are pretty close if you think about it.
I thought that leaving 90 minutes before the show started was giving us plenty of time. I even worried about getting there too early and having to keep the troops entertained before they were entertained. But, as soon as we pulled out of the driveway and loaded Google maps, I realized we had a problem. It estimated our drive to be 1 hour and 50 minutes long, our 22 mile drive, mind you. I so wanted to turn around and bail entirely. But, I had built this show up and I had three kids in the back with owl, rat, and cat stuffed animals and wearing time turner necklaces and one little four year old who wouldn’t stop saying “Potted Potter” over and over again because she kept forgetting what it was called. There were no options but to keep going…slowly going. I started preparing them that we’d be late but it would be fine…as I was thinking this was insane and that missing 30 minutes of a 70 minute show was good enough reason to turn around and go home. But, there was no reason that would allow that. As to be expected, 1/3 of the way into the drive, my stress multiplied tenfold when Lydia announced her need for a potty and Ashlyn reminded me that Daddy had gotten our never-leave-home-without-it travel potty out and we had left home without it. She had to hold it. And, she did. But, I honestly don’t know how. I drove like I was on a mission, weaving in and out and praying all the way that we’d make it there fast and in 5 pieces (that’s one piece per person), arriving at a parking garage near where I thought the theater was 95 minutes after leaving the house and 5 minutes after the show started. I wonder if the drivers who watched me grab my children’s hands and arms and run down Chestnut Street in search of the theater thought I was crazy or brave. Seriously out of breath—in that dry, coughy, Ashtma sort of way—we got to our seats just as the narrator introduced the two actors.
Phew. Yeah, that’s an understatement.
And, then of course, I had to get up again to take Lydia to the potty because I had forgotten all about that. But, when we got back, those three Potter pokes were glued to the stage and smiling and laughing and loving their night out on the town watching what was like a really funny YL run-on minus the underdog theme and all about Harry Potter instead which didn’t mean a whole lot to me but means a whole lot to them.
We made it home. The house is quiet, and all the kids are asleep. Their lunches for tomorrow are made, and their outfits laid out. The sink isn’t empty, but I don’t care. I’m in a comfy bed and ready to close up this Macbook and call it a day. Peace out from this crazy brave mama.
