Joel is away at the moment. He's in Hollywood for work. That's right, Hollywood. The place where the beautiful people live, where dreams come true, where everything is fabulous and babies don't wake you at 5.30 in the morning. From what I can gather he's primarily there to attend a party, which is every bit as ridiculous as it sounds.
Of course there's more to it, at some point he has to address 500 people and he's worked very hard to be in the position he's in, but pfft, details. A week in Hollywood sans baby sounds pretty good to me right about now.
I cannot lie, I am jealous of my baby daddy. Once upon a time he would've extended that trip by a few weeks and I would've called in my annual leave at short notice and joined him for a jaunt around LA and Las Vegas. In fact, that's exactly what happened in 2010. Then in 2011 we did a similar stint in LA and New York. Then in 2012 we had a baby, the end.
As I'm typing a text tells me that Joel has just stepped off the plane in the City of Angels; "sunny as ever" he tells me. I'm imagining him stopping by a diner on his way to the hotel - specifically this diner, the one we visited on our first trip to LA, the one where the diner scenes from Swingers were shot. In my mind he's in a booth perusing a newspaper, a pile of hotcakes dripping with maple syrup and a cup of piping hot filter coffee sitting in front of him. The only person to disturb the peace is a waitress/actress who stops by intermittently to top up his coffee. He checks his watch - hours before he needs to be anywhere - and his shoulders relax as his lips twitch into a slight smile.
I'm sitting at our be-crumbed dining table with toothpicks holding my eyelids open and flies buzzing around my head (is it just me, or are there way more flies about this summer?) Our son decided to start the day at 5.30am and he's now gathering cat hair on his knees as he struggles to stop them from sliding out on the wooden floor thanks to his leggings. He's cranky and no matter how many toys I put in front of him, he's only interested in making his way over to me so he can partake in his current preferred activity - clawing at my legs and grizzling.
You guys, Joel is living an episode of Entourage while I'm living a repeat episode of Everybody Loves Raymond. Can you blame me for being jealous?
From his luxurious hotel room, feet up on an ottoman, whiskey in hand, Joel would no doubt tell you he's missing us - and I'm sure he is, but only slightly. You see I have no doubt he's enjoying the break away from the mess, the crying, the endless whining... and that's just from me (sorry, with Joel gone I'm in charge of fulfilling the dad-joke quota). And what a break it is! I'm not talking about a weekend of team building in Taupo, I'm talking about six days of proper Hollywood VIP treatment.
I love being a stay-at-home-mum, I love spending time with my son, it's really cute when he claps his hands and all, but just for this week I wish I could kick off my jandals and leggings, slip into something a bit glitzy, and trade places with his dad.
What things have been hard to watch your partner go off and do without you that you would normally have done together if it weren't for the kids? Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you've wished you could trade places with the other parent in your life?
- Essential Mums
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