I Vant To Be Alone

Truth Thursday

Last week I was cleaning up some piles of old books in the attic. Among them was a sweet book I had bought for my kids a few years back. It’s called “Five Minutes Peace,” and it’s all about a mama elephant who just wants … you guessed it … five minutes peace. Her three young children show up everywhere – when she’s on the phone, when she’s making toast for breakfast, in her bath. 

Anyone with children can relate. And of course, the runaway best seller among parents of small children in 2011 was “Go the F—k to Sleep,” which, while I’m not sure I would actually have chosen to state it so publicly, is a sentiment to which I definitely adhere (and anyone who read my “Potty Mouth Mama” blog knows that I don’t even really object to the profanity.) Those quiet nighttime moments, after small children are finally asleep, are a parents’ sanity savior. 

As my children get older, they are no longer appendages of my body, accompanying me wherever I go. I remember feeling like I wanted to scream when I would take a shower in the morning when they were younger, and sure enough, as soon as I stepped into what I hoped would be five minutes of child-free, hot water bliss, someone would inevitably knock on the door, needing something important like scotch tape. Surely their father, calmly sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and oblivious to the dire calamity of tape necessity, could help them? 

Nope. It had to be mom.

Today, no one knocks on the bathroom door when I’m getting ready in the morning unless there’s blood.  This is both a product of training and age. I am still needed in many ways, and I am rarely alone, but it’s not in the same achingly difficult physical way. 

And while that is all good, the down side of having older children is that, much like babies, their biorhythmic destinies seem to trend towards becoming night owls, and so my house is now populated by teenage and pre-teenage bodies, draped over couches and doing homework, well into the evening hours, the 7:30 – 9:30 or even 10:00 pm jam session, which is when I used to enjoy some peace and quiet and much-needed alone time. Now, by the time the final good night kiss is plunked on a head (and for still having that privilege, I am grateful), it is time for me to sit down on my own bed, propped up by pillows, open my book and promptly fall asleep.  

So there are increasingly few evening hours during which I can catch up on everything (work, bills, cooking, grocery shopping) I haven’t gotten to during the day. And there is definitely no alone time – even if the children are in bed, there is my loving spouse right there next to me, reminding me that he deserves a little attention once in a while too. 

This past week, said spouse was out of town on a work trip. A friend asked, worriedly, what I was going to do. In all honesty, I replied “have a party!” I do love when I get a week to myself, complete with unilateral decision making and parenting. As I have told my family many times, I don’t miss anyone until they or I are gone for more than a week.

So the week is the perfect amount of time for a spousal work trip – enough to give everyone a little break, allow for some good take-out and Chipotle runs, a break from routine (Mom, do I have to go to school today?  Daddy’s away!!), and the deliciousness of my large bed all to myself. When the spouse is away, I force myself to stay up later in order to enjoy the peace of the nighttime quiet. 

Last night, an almost full moon peeked inside the window over my bed. It’s white light softly beamed onto my comforter, and I realized that my husband was half way around the world, staring at the same moon. The week is almost up; his absence is almost starting to feel like longing; and my kids and I are preparing for our traditional Shabbat dinner together this evening, minus one important family member. 

We’ll go around the table, and say what we’re grateful for. I will say that I am grateful that both Daddy and I get to travel to wonderful places for our work, and how lucky we are. And I will also offer gratitude for the moments of peace and quiet I had this week, ports in the regular weekday storm, and then pray for my husband’s safe return and the start of a new week of togetherness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

[Beth Sperber Richie]

Amen to this one, Karen. As Joni Mitchell sang "You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone". I had no idea how precious those evening hours were until we slipped into the life of parenting teens. I am trying to learn to slip those quiet alone times in at other points in the day whenever possible. And it's not easy!