I’m home alone for six days while my husband and son ski in Lake Tahoe!!!

Labels: By Marianne Lonsdale, Grey's Anatomy, Lake Tahoe, time alone

Stumble This Post

My husband has taken the kids camping and left me to have a precious twenty-four hours to myself.

It is a gift.

I walked them to the SUV, gave kisses and hugs and waved as the car descended down the hill. Then I opened the gate, skipped down to the house and ran inside.

I noticed something unusual.

Quiet.

I liked the sound of it.

I checked e-mails without fear of being interrupted.

I read four stories online in The New York Times.

Four!!!

Then I felt guilty. The running To Do List in my head noted we were out of everything: paper towels, napkins and, perhaps more importantly, dinosaur chicken nuggets, my daughter’s sole source of protein. It looked like I’d have to go to Costco.

Just the thought made me tired so I decided to take a nap -- because for once, I could. As I walked to the sofa, a thought occurred to me – you’ve been given a present – open it.

Costco could wait. Suddenly, I was no longer tired, I was energized! This really could be all about ME, instead of Mimi, Jay and John.

I love them beyond human comprehension, but sometimes the requirements of family can be taxing. Sometimes, I just need time alone.

I changed course and drove to the DVD store. I luxuriously walked from one end of the store to the next without having to go to the children’s aisle first.

I could get an adult drama. Capote. I could get a comedy. The Squid and the Whale.
I felt like the little parent who could.

John had given me this gift once before. Then it was for two days. I remember the first twenty-four hours I was giddy with freedom. By the second, I couldn’t wait for them to come home.

I knew then that my single days were over. But I could pretend now.

I popped in the first DVD. With my cat curled in my lap, a blanket swathed around us, I would enjoy this private time.

By Dawn Yun

Labels: By Dawn Yun, Capote, cat, DVD, family away, free time for mom, husband, movies, quiet, THe Squid and the Whale, time alone

Stumble This Post

I know exactly the moment my older son, Paul, was conceived and it was fraught with panic and apprehension, not joy and anticipation. My husband and I had been married for roughly six months after being “together” for three years. There was no doubt that he was going to be the father of my child.

Someday.

I had just gone off the pill and we had just begun talking about getting pregnant. Even though we were in negotiations, I was not prepared to actually be pregnant yet, let alone be anybody’s mommy.

I was not ready. I just did not know how not ready I really was.

“Wait! It’s not a good time” I insisted.

“Come on, what are the odds?” My husband countered.

Indeed.

Looking back, seven and a half years later, I wonder if I had known what lay ahead of me would I have done things differently? Would I do it at all?

I hear mothers say all the time how they can’t imagine their lives without their children. I can only pity those poor women and their lack of creativity. I not only imagine my life without them; I fantasize about it to the point of obsession. Sometimes that is all that gets me through my day.

I am in a sailboat with the wind in my hair and George Clooney by my side. I am in a café in Paris with a handsome stranger. I am on a beach sipping a Mai Thai next to a smooth chested beach boy.

Sometimes my husband is there (well, a slightly better version) but my children do not exist. My body is beautiful. My stomach is flat and hard, unlike the Shar-Pei puppy it now resembles. My mind is sharp and I remember things easily, not frantically and too late. I can complete thoughts and tasks without interruption.

I contemplate these parallel lives as I muddle through my days. Multi-tasking is just another form of ADD. I spin hopelessly through my house from one mess to another.

I love my kids even though I often wish for something else for myself. Peace and quiet, a clean bathroom, eight hours of sleep, I could go on and on. It is not that I wish they were not here, but that I often wish I were not here.

So I cling to my fantasies and try to go somewhere else in my mind. Especially since I don’t really want to go anywhere with my family.

By Cathy Burke

Labels: Conception, fantasies, time alone

Stumble This Post