The Gift of Time Alone

I’m one lucky mama. I know this every day. Even when I’m sitting in the pediatrician’s waiting room (again) or being yelled at for not being able to read minds (again). Well, this year Lenny and the kids decided to remind me of just how lucky I am (again). They sent me off to the local Westin (after decorating the room with magazines, cards and flowers as well as stocking the fridge with a bottle of wine and mini cupcakes) to spend an afternoon and night all by myself.

While some people might go crazy spending 18 hours alone, it was this mom-of-three-who’s-admitted-to-being-an-introvert’s idea of bliss. And the whole time, I couldn’t help but think the choices I was making were a lot like the ones my kids would make if they were in charge. Maybe I should let them call the shots more often.

I ate dessert first.

I went to the pool. Then decided I just wanted to sit on the steps.

I left my bathing suit on the floor.

I accidentally fell asleep in the middle of the afternoon.

All I wanted for dinner was a burger and fries.

I ate dinner in front of the TV. (Well, I tried to, but the TV wasn’t working.)

When the TV wasn’t working, I screamed dialed for help. And eventually—probably after finishing a riveting blog post—someone came up and plugged it in for me without asking why I didn’t try to solve the problem by myself.

I didn’t do what I was supposed to.

I woke up far too early. Then laid in bed reading, anxiously waiting for the kids to tell me it was time to get up.

I ran to the door when I heard four of my favorite voices coming down the hall. And I realized that 18 hours was exactly the deep breath I needed to be the best version of my kids’ mom again. (Which, of course, meant a picnic of donuts and a morning of swimming. Together.)

I hope Mother’s Day brought you smiles, love, cards, celebration and maybe even that moment of silence (or whatever else it is) you’ve been needing.