I’m at the point in my parenting path where I can look back and notice some missed opportunities. For example, I regret not spending enough dedicated one-on-one time with either of my children.
Penn and I made a deal when we had kids: I would handle any heavy lifting if our kids wanted to participate in dance or theater. If our kids wanted to play sports, that would be his lane. By age three, both of our kids were enrolled in dance classes. By kindergarten I had them signed up for theater camps and music classes. Both of them bailed by the 2nd grade. Movement, music, and the stage lights were not for them. Both of them picked up sports and I was pretty much off-duty.
Penn, happily, handles snack sign-ups, transportation, and even coaches their teams on occasion. I am cheering from the sidelines but Penn takes the lead and never ever misses a game. This means he is the one who travels to out-of-town tournaments most weekends with one of the kids. He has intense one-on-one time with each kid. When you travel together and share a hotel room, you have traditions and inside jokes. Don’t get me wrong, I’m busy back home. I maintain the hectic schedule of the kid who doesn’t have a tournament that weekend and the house and the dog and all that happens in life.
Let’s Go Big
Maybe because of traditional gender interests, Lola and I had taken a few “girls trips” together. A weekend at the beach to celebrate her getting into her dream school (while Penn drove to another state for a basketball tournament with our son). The year before she and I, randomly, had clear weekend calendars and we took another trip to the beach just to hunt for seashells. Having that travel time with my girl was precious and priceless. But it made me realize – while Penn has been on the road with both of our kids, I’ve never had that intense quality time with just my son.
I tried to schedule a full “Mom/Son” staycation day but the world always interfered. I was going to take him ziplining, then an arcade, and then eat greasy burgers at a place I’ve always wanted to try. But predictably a practice, a game, a birthday party always popped up and those all seemed more urgent at the time.
I decided we needed to plan a trip out of town to protect our time from the distractions of the real world. I feel like I was making up for 15 years of missed mother-son days so I went big: We went to a theme park for two days. This is the point where Penn interrupted with, “Wait, I drive across the state and eat fast food for a weekend on my trips but you’re going to Universal?”
Yes. Exactly.
Let’s Make A Plan
My husband and son have the same brains so listening to them talk is like watching those Olympic-level table tennis matches. They have so many sports facts memorized and theories in place about trade portals and NIL deals that they talk, uninterrupted, for hours. It’s dizzying. I was worried he and I would run out of conversation early. And we did. As we were waiting in the boarding area at the airport you could tell he wanted to talk, but he didn’t know how to start. So he looked at me and asked, “How was your day?” He had been by my side for the entire day so far, he just didn’t know how to start the conversation. Bless his sweet little heart.
Because he’s a sports fan, we spent the time in the air making our trip a game, of sorts. We came up with a detailed itinerary of the rides we wanted to conquer and the exact time we’d be there.
7:20am – Arrive at front gates awaiting 8am opening
7:50am – Gates open
7:51-55am – Make a mad dash to “Hagrid’s” ride at the back of the park
8-8:30am – Wait in line
8:30am – Ride “Hagrid’s”
8:37am – Walk to “Velocicoaster”
8:45am – Ride “Velocicoaster”
8:50am – Walk to “The Hulk”
9:10am – Ride “The Hulk”
9:15am – Find a bench for mom to sit on so she doesn’t blow chunks
*Our county’s spring break was the week after peak “spring break” so it almost felt like we had the park to ourselves. 10/10 recommend.
In making the plan, we talked about Harry Potter and then that started a conversation about superpowers and which one would be the best to have (teleportation, obviously) and on and on and on. We just needed a game to get us started.
We checked off the rides and played 20 questions in line. Until the day Jesus takes me home, I will remember how he held my hand when I thought I was going to blow chunks after one particular rollercoaster. I still giggle thinking about the laughs we shared trying to fit a giant, stuffed doughnut he won from a carnival-style basketball game into his suitcase for the trip home.
We couldn’t connect in this way if we were being pulled into conversations with the rest of the family. I try not to sit in too much regret, but I’m so sorry it took me this long to have time like this with my son. As we were boarding the plane home, he asked, “Where do you want to go next year?” I think we have a new tradition!
