I spent my second, ever, night away from the kids that didn’t involve me being hospitalized from some reason. It was awesome. A couple of tears slipped by as I passed off my baby to his aunt but the flood (which I fully expected) never came.
If you’ve never been to the Pima Air and Space Museum in Tucson, go! I never cared a day in my life about airplanes of any kind but this is an experience. Plane after plane, (filling hanger after hanger) illustrates the history of aviation, tells stories of great lives, inspired minds and, gruesome wars; consequently exposing the price of freedom. I was overwhelmed.
We wandered up and down Fourth Ave., a U of A haunt, taking in the sights and sounds. One woman had all but the crown of her head shaved, her remaining locks were worn in dreads and tied in a knot at the top of her head. One troup of shabby musicians who only played music when people walked by asked my husband, “Could you spare a dollar since your girlfriend’s cute?” Unusually well-mannered vagrants wove in and out of the crowd. One related to us that he thought that the passing trolley– which continually runs up and down the street– wasn’t the one he was used to seeing.
We landed at a semi-shabby, very funky, Mexican-Indian restaurant, La Indita. Should you wind up there, I highly recommend the Picadillas. The mole was okay, we were divded on the salsa, (I loved it!) but agreed that the Picadillas were fantastic. And you can’t beat the ambience.
We did a downtown walking tour I found online and were startled to come upon a beautiful statue depicting my husband’s ancestor, Jefferson Hunt. Captain of the Mormon Battalion, Hunt and his companion are shown trading with a Mexican merchant during the Mexican-American war.
Downtown Tucson is chock-full of history, color, and culture. I couldn’t get enough of it but eventually, my legs gave out and I gave up. We swung by the San Xavier del Bac mission “on our way” out of town; just about the time that my biological mothering instinct kicked in and auto-piloted me home to my baby. On the edge of my seat the last hour of our drive, I envisioned my baby thrashing around, screaming, exhausted, and motherless. Sadly, my vision was accurate.
It took a while, once we showed up, to convince him that I really was me and I really was back. Poor, sad tiny-guy.
If we weren’t sore enough from all the waking, we went ahead and took the kids to the zoo on Monday. Ouch. On the up-side, it feels like we really had a vacation.
I’m not a big fan of leaving my kids but I’m still floating on residual cloud nine. This trip, I believe, is just what I needed to get me through my next few dishes of reality hash.