For the past two days I have gotten a taste of what it might feel like to live as a Bachelorette...well the cat lady variety anyway; one who prefers Edith Wharton novels to social events. Colton and Bean went out of town for the weekend to visit a sick relative, who with some prayers and good rest should heal just fine. I opted to stay behind because they really need me at work.
Colton travels often with his job so I am used to his absences (also I did not carry him in my womb for 38 weeks), but since her birth my child has not left my side for longer than it took for me to go to class or work…or maybe a day of window shopping with my mom. She has certainly never been on a trip without me, and what’s more is I’ve never really been in my house without her. So as excited as I was about the prospect of a weekend retreat in my living room, as soon as I blew one last kiss and watched the G6 pull out of the alleyway I was a little startled to find that I had no idea what to do with myself. This from a mama who values her solitude- who is not exactly a “morning person” but sets her alarm for 5:00am just to have a couple of hours to practice yoga, or create something beautiful in peace.
So I sat on the couch for a good twenty minutes just staring at the coffee table, thinking “pinch me". Then I flew around the house like the neurotic lady I am, cleaning and rearranging, just to channel all of that nervous energy. After that I went to work, felt relatively normal for five hours, and decided that if I was going to be granted a weekend of me-time (a weekend that many mothers only dream about) I had better make the most of it. I had to work early the next morning so I went to bed after I finished a paper for one of my classes. But not before receiving a much anticipated "good-night" call from my family. Bean, of course, had to ensure that I was taking excellent care of her babies...the living ones as well as the others, who reside on her window seat and are very much alive to her.
But after work on Saturday, I fell back into the funk of what the heck should I do? I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to practice yoga for two hours or eat an entire box of brownies. I compromised with one hour of yoga, followed by a plate of French fries, a glass of cabernet sauvignon (Yellow Tail…cheap and delicious), and two of my favorite movies: The Family Stone and Sophia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette.
About three glasses deep it started raining outside. I don’t know if I’ve made it clear but I truly adore rain. So before I know it, I am out in the yard, with wet grass between my toes, and feeling incredibly happy about it. My neighbors already seem to regard me as the crazy white lady (I never really lost that small town habit of chatting with every single person I see) so after about thirty seconds of that I decided it was a good time to go back inside and put the cork back on the wine bottle.
Sunday is my day off and I really don’t have much to say for it because I am still in Sunday, and all I’ve really accomplished is this...
Oh and this…
I think this is a healthy experience for all of us. Bean is in extremely capable hands, and I know she is having a blast road tripping with her daddy, running around with her cousins, and being spoiled rotten by relatives who've missed her terribly. Colton leads a busy life outside of our home, and a lot of days he has no choice but to bring his work home with him, so it isn't often he gets this kind of one-on-one time with his little girl. And me, well as you can plainly see I've had some much needed relaxation. I will enjoy the next couple days of living like a Parisian; learning the richness of doing nothing and liking it.
But I'll still be looking forward to the moment I get back to this:
Crazy, messy, happy life.
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