When John and I were dating, he got tickets to an Orioles game from work and asked my brother and father to attend with us. He was worried that my mom might feel slighted and wondered if she would feel left out.
"Are you kidding me?" I said, "She's getting the house to herself for an evening. It'll be like vacation."
He didn't get it then, and to this day, I still don't think he gets it. He's an extravert who thrives on noise and activity and people and visitors.
Me, I get it.
Johnny quit napping soon after Maureen was born, so time to myself became a hot commodity. Most days, he's content to play with his trucks or watch a video for awhile during Maureen's nap, so I can check email and update my blog. But I'm not truly by myself. To be truly by myself, I usually end up staying up late, even if I'm tired, because that daily solitude is so important. It's why, although I am not a morning person, I enjoy being up once I actually blast myself out of bed.
Over the weekend, I got two opportunities for time to myself. On Saturday, John took Johnny to Pimlico and I stayed home while Maureen napped. They were gone for several hours and Maureen took a lengthy rest. I didn't do anything spectacular with my time. I put some music on my iPod. I had a snack and cleaned up my kitchen. I took a shower and painted my toenails. I put away a load of laundry. I used the pet hair roller on the couch and the dining room chairs. I checked in on all the blogs I read and answered some long overdue emails. I changed the photos in the picture frames downstairs.
On Sunday, one of John's cousins graduated from the eighth grade and the ceremony was at the Basilica. Maureen is at the age where she is really difficult in church, so I stayed home with her while John took Johnny. She also needed her nap, so again, I got a couple of hours of quiet time. I picked up all the toys from the morning, and scrubbed the shower upstairs. I had a sandwich and threw a load of laundry in the dryer. I sat on the couch and read a book.
I didn't do anything exciting and I spent a lot of my time cleaning. But it was by myself. With no little people to trip over and no one coming behind me to mess up what I just did. No sounds of tractors clanking together and no one asking for milk and Cheerios.
Sitting in a quiet, clean house, accompanied only by my own thoughts was Pure Bliss. Especially since I knew that naptime would only last so long and that my two favorite guys would come home soon. It was exactly the break I needed. It was marvelous.
My family takes our house and turns it into a home. But sometimes I need a teeny weeny break from that.
My husband still doesn't get it. Staying home alone, doing mundane household tasks and puttering around doesn't seem like something to crave to him. But I am grateful that he's willing to humor me and occasionally whisk the kids to places elsewhere so I can be by myself. In silence.
"Are you kidding me?" I said, "She's getting the house to herself for an evening. It'll be like vacation."
He didn't get it then, and to this day, I still don't think he gets it. He's an extravert who thrives on noise and activity and people and visitors.
Me, I get it.
Johnny quit napping soon after Maureen was born, so time to myself became a hot commodity. Most days, he's content to play with his trucks or watch a video for awhile during Maureen's nap, so I can check email and update my blog. But I'm not truly by myself. To be truly by myself, I usually end up staying up late, even if I'm tired, because that daily solitude is so important. It's why, although I am not a morning person, I enjoy being up once I actually blast myself out of bed.
Over the weekend, I got two opportunities for time to myself. On Saturday, John took Johnny to Pimlico and I stayed home while Maureen napped. They were gone for several hours and Maureen took a lengthy rest. I didn't do anything spectacular with my time. I put some music on my iPod. I had a snack and cleaned up my kitchen. I took a shower and painted my toenails. I put away a load of laundry. I used the pet hair roller on the couch and the dining room chairs. I checked in on all the blogs I read and answered some long overdue emails. I changed the photos in the picture frames downstairs.
On Sunday, one of John's cousins graduated from the eighth grade and the ceremony was at the Basilica. Maureen is at the age where she is really difficult in church, so I stayed home with her while John took Johnny. She also needed her nap, so again, I got a couple of hours of quiet time. I picked up all the toys from the morning, and scrubbed the shower upstairs. I had a sandwich and threw a load of laundry in the dryer. I sat on the couch and read a book.
I didn't do anything exciting and I spent a lot of my time cleaning. But it was by myself. With no little people to trip over and no one coming behind me to mess up what I just did. No sounds of tractors clanking together and no one asking for milk and Cheerios.
Sitting in a quiet, clean house, accompanied only by my own thoughts was Pure Bliss. Especially since I knew that naptime would only last so long and that my two favorite guys would come home soon. It was exactly the break I needed. It was marvelous.
My family takes our house and turns it into a home. But sometimes I need a teeny weeny break from that.
My husband still doesn't get it. Staying home alone, doing mundane household tasks and puttering around doesn't seem like something to crave to him. But I am grateful that he's willing to humor me and occasionally whisk the kids to places elsewhere so I can be by myself. In silence.
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3 comments:
I very much get it. And sometimes, I get it alone on a beach with a book. That works too.
I love me a good shopping outing ALONE, but NOTHING tops a couple of hours in my house by myself. The thought of it just make me want to draw up a bubble bath and a good book.
I get it. I totally get it. And like yours, my husband does not. Give me 20 minutes alone to take a deep breath and not have to referee or clean up spills or save someone from impending doom (falling down the stairs, jumping off sofa arms, or any number of dangerous things little boys think are fun) and i think I've died and gone t heaven. A little of that goes a long way. My husband was going to take the kids to visit his parents for a long weekend by himself and that was way too much alone time for me. I was really glad when he decided not to. A couple hours is good, a couple days and I really miss them all.
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