TheBakersfieldCalifornian.com

I spent a four-day weekend in Santa Barbara alone with my husband and came back with a fundamental observation: children wreak havoc on a marriage. I'm talking Chernobyl chicken with two heads and 14 claws kind of mutative havoc. Is it still a chicken? Yeah. But that bird no longer looks as good as it once did.

Now, don't start thinking I'm anti-children or something of the sort, because nothing could be further from the truth. But I like to call things for what they are. The chemistry of my marriage before children was much different than it is now when I have to share my bed with not only my husband, but also everyone in the house who is notching under 4'2".

If I were to be blunt about it, I could sum up this middle bubble of a marriage -- the stretch of time when kids are growing from babies to self-sufficiency -- as a veritable crapshoot. Let's be honest, shall we?If you're in this category odds are you've never been fatter, never been more tired, and never thought so much about throwing in the towel.

You're pulled at every corner and your children take up the majority of your free time. (Case in point: Many chuckled at the mere thought of "free time" even existing.) So, by the time you reunite with your spouse at the end of the day, instead of the warm June Cleaver greeting (what a faker!) you get a "not now" or maybe even something as minimal as a grunt.

They say that couples with young children need to carve out as much alone time as possible to keep marriages healthy. You may ask, who are "they?" Well, "they" are typically older, been-there-done-that adults who currently experience the glory of leaving for work in the morning and then coming home at night with their floor, walls and bathrooms in the exact same order as they had left them earlier. Yet, the reminders are necessary, so keep them coming. (I'm just a little jealous you get to use the toilet without pint-sized, needy eyes staring you down.)

Every couple in this middle matrimony period needs time away, alone. I only wish I hadn't waited 10 years to figure that out.

Charles and I have been vacationing with the kids since they were born, and that was pretty much our only financial allotment toward travel for the year. If we didn't go together as a family, then we didn't spend the money. Ah, I was such an idiot. But now I've seen the light.

My parents were gracious enough to watch the boys for four days. Four whole days. Sure, I wracked my nerves with anxiety on what could happen to them in my absence. But the minute we hit Highway 126 to Santa Barbara, I thought to myself, "What kids?"

We ate out every night. And at ritzy places. Places so upscale that other diners would've stoned us if we had dared to bring our genetic offshoots along for the ride. We didn't even bother to start dining until after ... get this ... bedtime. We stayed up late, slept in later, and had champagne at three o'clock in the afternoon.

Only four days. It was still enough. I felt reconnected with my spouse, and at the time felt he could do no wrong. It may have been the champagne, but it was probably the temporary kid-free environment.

I know I only have my kids small and in my arms for a little time, but a weekend away won't hurt anyone. In fact, my kids were so elated from spending time at Grandma and Grandpa's, they had a euphoric, sedative glow for the following few days. It also could have been the result of a trans-fat/sugar induced walking-coma from all the fast-food and ice cream, but that's neither here nor there.

Time away works. Spend the dough and get it done. Guilt trip family members into watching your brood. Enjoy yourselves. Before you know it, it'll be Monday and you'll find your bathroom redecorated by every tube of lipstick you or your wife owns. Or, maybe that's just how my Monday rolls every now and then.

Bottom line is I'm already looking forward to my marriage weekend getaway next year. It truly is a relationship tune-up that works for us.

-- Heather Ijames is one of three community columnists whose work appears here every Saturday. These are the opinions of Ijames, not necessarily The Californian's. You can send e-mail to her at heatherijames@hotmail.com. Next week: Inga Barks.