Since I have had children I haven't really had any "alone time." I consider peeing alone a success and the most alone time I've had in, oh, 2 years, 3 months, 20 days, 12 hours, and 25 minutes. Not that I've been counting or anything.
Sure, there is the very occasional ten minutes alone when I run two blocks to the grocery store for a much needed dinner item. But nine times out of ten, someone comes along with. J and I have been out a handful of times, but then I'm not alone am I? I'm with J. Whom I love and adore, but it's still different.
So today, realizing that I'm about to burst at my seams because this past week may very well have been the most stressful week I've had as a mom yet, J told me to go do something while he kept the kids. So I did. Because I needed to.
I decided I was going to get a pedicure first; a fun, relaxing ritual I used to partake in nearly every other week before I had kids. Well, I learned something about myself today. I no longer like pedicures.
As soon as I walked into the salon I immediately started to inhale cancer. I swear that's what I was inhaling. Tiny little green and orange microscopic cancer balls with fuzz and googly eyes penetrating my lungs. Then as I put my feet into the tub I was immediately being attacked by someone’s leftover fungus. A man who is not my husband had his hands all over my feet and legs, rubbing and caressing. I was totally skeeved out. He poured acetone over my toes, which I'm pretty sure ate my flesh. And then he suffocated my toenails with nail polish that was filled with more cancer.
You might think I'm crazy, I think I'm crazy. But this is totally how it was happening.
So after I finally got my shoes back on and fled (after overhearing a great conversation where a lady who is getting married tomorrow said to her friend, "Well, it's my wedding and it will be the best day of my life!" and the friend said, "Uh huh. That's what you told me before your last wedding."...) and was off to Starbucks for a Frappacino. I walked through the mall, noticing like a million and two new stores because I never make it past Target when I "go to the mall." Since I really didn't know what to do with my free time, I waltzed into all the kid clothes stores, of course.
When I finally made it to Starbucks I order a ginormous Frappacino and sipped every glorious drop of it, thrilled not to have a two year old to share with, and then lamenting that I didn't have a two year old to share with because she would have loved it so much. Aye carumba!
Since I'd only killed a half hour, I figured I should do something else. So off to the grocery store. A whole trip with no kids. What's this? I had never done real grocery shopping without kids in tow since Miss H's birth. So I had a grand ol’ time perusing the aisles and just having fun looking at all the things I never get to see.
But then of course, when I passed the deli section all I could think of was how Miss H loves getting her free cheese and baby B his free lunch meat. Ridiculous, I missed them at the grocery store.
On the upside, I didn't worry about them while I was gone. Which I used to do. Even if I was gone for ten minutes. Never once did I wonder "Are they crying?". I don't know if it's just because they were with J, and obviously I trust him like I trust myself with ou kids, maybe even more, because he is a waaaay better parent than me, or if it is just because I'm learning to relax and realize that they are just fine without me.
It was so weird to be without them though. And to be without J. To just be completely on my own. I'm never on my own. I used to relish my alone time. I needed it. I went to the movies every Friday by myself before I had kids just so I could zone out and not focus on anything.
I spent a lot of time on my own before babies were a part of the picture. Even after J and I were married. I simply like it. Or did.
Though alone time is nice. And maybe it is something I will try to incorporate occasionally into my life now, but much like pedicures, I realize it's something I had really thought I wanted and needed and missed because I loved so much. Now, not so much. I built it up to be something way better than what it really was. Sure, a shower by myself would be fantastic. Even a Frappacino of my own. But two hours alone isn't as needed as I thought.
And that probably makes me crazy.
No comments:
Post a Comment