My husband had been away for a week… a very long week. Before kids, it wasn’t such a big deal. I missed him and all, but life went on. I took care of myself and he came back with good stories. All’s well that ends well. But now… with kids… well… It’s not quite the same situation anymore. You know the expression “How can I miss you if you won’t go away?” Well, by the end of the week, that’s sort of how I was starting to feel about my kids. I love them, but I was starting to contemplate what I could do to get some alone time. And I was thinking BIG.
So when my husband got home, I informed him that I was due a morning to myself the next day, a Saturday. He agreed without hesitation. Smart man. He knew a man is only as happy as his wife. In my daydreams during the week, I had wonderful visions of how that time would be spent. A few hours in Panera with my laptop and no kids? Hmmm… Maybe a walk in the park. Without kids. That could be nice. The possibilities were endless.
That Saturday morning, after breakfast, my husband looks over at me and says, “So, where are you going?”. The moment of truth. How big should I dream?
What did I choose? Don’t yell at me. Ok? I know I should have gone more extravagant. I KNOW that in all the mommy newsletters the experts tell you to save “you” time to do something just for yourself. No housework. No laundry. Read a book or go shopping. (And not food shopping…)I didn’t listen.
Where did I go? Nowhere. My husband decided to take the kids out to play for the morning and I stood there in my house. Silence. Total and utter silence. It was amazing. No kids yelling, no requests for juice, no desperate pleas to find a Thomas train. I sat there for a minute, immobilized in joy, and then I got to work. I poured a second cup of coffee, and I cleaned out the fridge. I cleaned out the drawer in my bedside table, and the downstairs coat closet. There were some shoes in there I hadn’t seen in ages. Not that I missed them.
I changed the sheets on all the beds. I ran a load of laundry and I folded the clean laundry. I got organized for a goodwill drop off.
Maybe I’m nuts. Or maybe my mom/wife spirit has taken over my woman spirit. (Terrifying as it may be.) But it felt good. Really good. The house looked seriously tidy and seeing the goodwill bags ready to go was positively thrilling. Scary thrilling… where did I go wrong? The 20 year old version of me would have been horrified at that which brings me joy.
In the beginning of summer, I posted a blog about being a packrat and attempting to get the disastrous mess that is our house under control. I was working on the false assumption that having more time would result in higher efficiency. Really? When will I learn? The only time I get anything done is when I’m already too busy. Having “extra” time only makes me lazy. Gives me the urge to sit and relax. Dangerous… wanting to sit and relax. J
So today, on a day when I had so many other tasks to accomplish, I tidied up like crazy.
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