We went away this weekend to watch Matt run in a cross country invitational. Most of the weekend was spent with just Ryan as Matt wanted to do as much with his team as possible.
Totally a new and strange experience, and need I say it, an enjoyable one.
Traveling with just one means no fights. Period. Ryan was smothered with attention, getting to choose our agenda and where to eat. It was great fun to be with just one.
Yet on the other hand, I really missed Matt. After the invitational, I watched him walk away from me. He was with his friends and they were on the search for his bus...in the Bronx. It took all I had not to yell for him. To lecture him how dangerous the area was (the country girl in me) and to keep track of his surroundings. No, instead, I just let him go. And he was okay, Nothing happened to him unless you count both he and I gaining a bit more independence from one another.
He navigated Times Square, the Empire State Building and the hotel, just fine...without me.
Yet, when we were finally together for our last night, he gently leaned over and said that he had a great time with his friends, but he was glad to be back with his family.
Reason why: because we know how to have fun!
I'd like to leave you all thinking that it was a just wonderful weekend of no fighting. But alas, we made it to Tuesday morning. Motivating the boys to pack and catch a train was not fun. The barbs returned and we were the ordinary family that we always are.