So, if you’ve been following along, I recently had four days off in the world of being a wife and mother. I KNOW. How does that even happen. It just doesn’t, right? I actually went to research the topic a bit. Starting with the oh so trusty google and you know what I came up with?
Family and friends vacations. Couple vacations. Mom’s going on vacations together. But mom, alone at home? I think this a whole new world my friends. Unchartered territory.
Couple vacations are great. M and I make sure to make time for each other and they are always oh so nice but even then, there are expectations. It’s about reconnecting and making sure we’re solid and good to go on and so on and so forth. All great things, of course, but it’s more about being a wife than being completely yourself and let’s be honest…selfish.
And then vacations with other moms. Totally lovely, girlfriend time is divine, but again. It’s about the group as a whole. You can’t just suddenly decide to not talk and read a book in bed for five hours straight. Which is kind of all I’ve wanted to do for thirteen years.
THIRTEEN YEARS, going on fourteen actually. Of being a wife, being pregnant, being a mom, being pregnant again, being a mom again and a wife the whole time. That’s a whole lot of, well, not reading a book in bed for five hours straight. So is the job I signed up for, especially once I made the decision to stay home full time which translates to 365 days of being on the clock. No time off. No sick days. No paid vacation. It’s…..endless.
Though of course, I would NOT have it any other way.
Yet when the topic of the ski trip to Montana came up I played it cool. L has been going for a few years with M but I’ve obviously kept the baby at home. Now that B is over three and actually snowboarding I ever so slightly hinted ‘oh, you should take B!’
Oh my gosh. What was I doing? Maybe I should go. I love Montana! I love my boys! I would have so much fun!
But you know what? They need this. The boys need this together. B has always been more team mom than team dad. He’s getting way better as he gets older but this trip would be fantastic for them and I wouldn’t be in the background holding him back, so to speak. And B can figure out that yes, he can survive in the world, without mom.
So it was decided. The boys, M, and my dad headed to Big Sky the morning of Friday the 12th. So without further ado, here is what goes down when mom is home alone.
To begin, I’m going to try and pinpoint that exact emotion I was feeling when they walked out the door. It was still early and I was in a pre coffee haze so I don’t think it quite hit me for an hour or so. And then I felt two things: 1. Wanting to sing the Hallelujuah chorus from the top of my roof and 2. Wanting to sob hysterically in the corner. It was about 60/40 I’d say, so is the consistent extreme emotions of mothering. The photo (actually taken in Montana!) would lean towards what the 60% suggests.
So, old habits die hard, man. Without fail I will ask my three year old over and over and over again if he needs anything before I step into the shower. “Do you need to go to the bathroom” “Do you need a snack” “Do you need a drink” “Do you need another toy.” No. When I go to take said shower I always leave the door cracked because it’s enivitable…..’MOM! I’m hungry thirsty bored and I have to go potty!” as soon as I get in. I chuckled to myself that even alone, I kept that door cracked.
Grocery shopping alone was interesting. B typically enjoys it, so I tend to shop with him and he’s at an age now where that isn’t a total disaster. Yet when the kind produce man at Heinen’s asked me how I was doing and I responded, alone, with ‘we’re good?’ He looked at me like ‘poor crazy woman with her alter ego.’ Rightfully so. Again, old habits die hard.
See that bed right there? I got the WHOLE THING to myself. No one coming down at night telling me their foot hurts from growing, no one…..snoring, ahem. No one to wake me in the morning. Unreal. And yes, if you’re wondering, I slept completely sprawled out like a starfish.
WHAT IS THIS 8:25AM? Did I die? I’m dead. Is this heaven? I don’t even care. Oh my goodness did that feel good.
The other night as Mike and I were watching Housewives of Beverly Hills (yep) and the volume was set to an obscene 42 I kindly asked if he could turn the TV down. He responded ‘in a minute, I can’t hear the TV over the crunching in my head from my OH’s cereal. Fantastic.
Why not. I woke up exactly like this. And in the words of my three year old, ‘WHO CARES!?!?’ That would be no one. No one cares because NO ONE IS HERE!
I don’t know, I’m kind of digging this mustard yellow color. I do miss scaring the kiddos per usual, though.
Guess what I ate for dinner? ANYTHING I WANTED! And no one was telling me it was gross or that it smelled or that it tasted disgusting or that it was too cold or too hot or too orange or too mushy or, heaven forbid, green.
When it comes to organization my home is pretty good. Yet there were those few select spots that I just never tackled because, well, I didn’t. It was nice to finally take the plunge. I mean, do I really need a worn Old Navy dress from my 20’s? That would be a no.
11. Having girlfriends over to celebrate ‘Galentines’ Day with no boys and no kids is a big sweet treat.We cooked kickass food, we drank wine, we listened to Taylor. The only thing missing was the pillow fights.
….and their favorite pumpkin bread and homemade creamy tortellini soup and their favorite garlic bread because I want to smother them with ALL THE LOVE and ALL THE FOOD and everything in between.
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