About that deadly sin

Disclaimer: I’m aware just how very fortunate I am for so may reasons. Everything said below is said with knowledge of how lucky I am, in spite of everything.

Fact: My husband just took a private jet to Aspen for a company ski trip, extended an extra day so he can ski with his brother.

Reality: I have two toddlers at home, have not gone on vacation in ages and fantasize about vacations, skiing and private planes.

I know, I know, I’m very lucky. I should be proud that my husband has reached the echelon where he is not only invited on such trips but also there is room for him on the plane. And unlike other married women, I do not question his fidelity.

I can go on about how he is a good guy, a great father, a hard worker etc. etc. but the reality is I would love to be skiing. I’ve talked to him about going to a nearby mountain that may not have the white powder of out west but might satiate my skiing itch. I bring up romantic getaways with no success.

We pretend to have conversations about the two of us going on a exclusive weekends but he cuts them short when the subject of the kids surface. I trust our babysitter with the kids, either in our apartment or my grandma’s. My husband dismisses it. I ask my dad how he would feel about having the kids and the sitter at his house but he has yet to give me a definitive answer. I know I’m not the only one. A friend from Australia living in New York who did not even have a 92 year old grandma in town with whom she could consider dropping her kids off, but it does not make it much easier.

It makes me sad that we do not have anyone eager to watch our two lovely and exasperating children for 72 hours, even with full time help. And I suppose that is part of my jealousy, my husband can dart off on this trip (and in the last two weeks to London and LA, even if it was for work he did see his friends!) and I’m navigating two kids’ schedules. I’d love to run away for a long weekend with a friend but I don’t have someone that shares that desire or flexibility. My sister is too much of a wimp to leave her husband with full time help for a sister rendezvous. My brother would meet me except I’m not totally keen on spending a weekend with him.

Did I mention Hubby is going to Jazz Fest in New Orleans? Again? It’s frustrating because I do not feel my husband is home enough to spend time romanticizing me, wooing me to fall in love again. When he is home by bath time about once a week, he’ll finish and resume his relationship with the Blackberry and forget about his wife yearning to be doted upon. (In case you’re wondering: I dote on him, continuing to introduce new surprises in the bathroom. And when he knows something is up by my preparing in the bathroom, he lays in bed waiting for me to come out and seduce him. I’m not asking him to light candles, just take your socks off.)

And so it is of his independence, success and travel that I’m jealous of my husband.


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