When Running Away From Home Isn’t a Fleeting Thought

A friend who must remain nameless once told me a story about her first few months of motherhood. One night, about 3 in the morning, she was feeling particularly glum and dead tired while carrying and bouncing her infant son from room to room, trying to quiet him while searching for the answer to one simple question: Why does he hate me?

Nothing worked, but on the wings of despair rode a plan. She had chronically bad knees, and she fantasized (that was the word she used!) about crumpling to the kitchen floor, fatally crushing the baby but claiming to the authorities that her knees had given out and that his death was an accident.

I have a brother who also must remain nameless and who became a rookie father six years ago. His son was crying his first night on Earth, but my brother began singing, “Jesus Loves Me” and, miraculously, his son hushed. My brother and his wife telephoned me, aglow with that story and convinced they had discovered something wonderful, to which my silent reaction to their naivete was, “Don’t they know it’s a setup?”

Happy endings all around. Having spared her first-born, my friend went on to have a second child and has proved an excellent mother. My brother learned that hymns didn’t work every time; in fact, he revealed well after the fact that his first year of fatherhood served up some of the most demanding and maddening times of his life. But he survived them and loves being a dad.

The point is that being a parent can be tough, darn it.

For starters, the hours are brutal. Most of the time, you’ve got nowhere to run, baby, nowhere to hide.

I’d like to think that explains the lost-and-found story of Barbara Burchartz of Orange, whose weeklong disappearance scared her relatives and friends to death. Thirty-two years old and the mother of two, Burchartz dropped the 8- and 11-year-olds off at school Nov. 29 and then vanished.

Well, not really vanished, but AWOL. After a week, her family went public, holding a news conference and saying Barbara would never leave for so long without telling one of them where she was. Understandably, friends and relatives feared foul play.

Another happy ending. A day after the family made its pained announcement that she was missing, Burchartz was reported safe and sound in Buffalo Bill’s Hotel and Casino in Stateline, Nev., just this side of Las Vegas. She told police she didn’t realize anyone thought she was missing.

Hmm. I imagine that a lot of parents and non-parents alike are going to recoil at Burchartz’s disappearing act.

However, a friend of mine (and father of three) had no such thought. He read about Burchartz and admiringly referred to her caper as “every parent’s dream.”

Come on, parents, how many times have you driven the kids to soccer practice or the mall or their friend’s house and noticed that big old freeway just over yonder and told yourself that if you just steered the car that direction you could lay your burdens down, once and for all? How many times have you pondered, “How far could I get before they find me?”

Apparently, one possible answer is Stateline.

That’s why my friend, rather than be contemptuous of Burchartz, was awe-struck. The way he sees it, she not only talked the talk, she walked the walk.

It’s not like she left her children on a doorstep. Apparently, they had adult supervision while she was gone. And say what you will, after this episode, they’ll no doubt have a whole new take on Mom.

It would be great to interview Burchartz in depth. Aren’t you curious about her thoughts as she bolted for the border?

Did she plan it for weeks in advance or just go on a whim?

Was she just fed up? Did she feel a rush of adrenaline?

Did she feel 10 years younger? Did she feel like an outlaw?

Did she feel any guilt? Did she do any cooking or pick up any dirty clothes the whole time she was gone?

Was running away from home as fun as my friend thinks it would be?

Every worn-out parent could live vicariously through her. It’d be like talking to someone who went bungee jumping; the rest of us know it’d be a gas, but we’re too chicken to try.

Not Barbara Burchartz.

She saw that cliff and, acting on the repressed impulses of parents everywhere, took a flying leap.