I will happily accept whatever gift the hubby and peanut dream up – a book, a new diaper bag, breakfast, flowers, a card. I’m not writing this to fish for gifts or hint at websites that offer really cool options. Whatever I open Mother’s Day morning will be thoughtful and perfect, I’m sure, and I will love it and appreciate it and the sentiments that come with it.
But, in a perfect world, what do I really want this Mother’s Day? A vacation by myself.
Now that peanut has given up his nap, my “me” time is limited. Severely. Lately, he’s taken to coming out of his room and making a game of “rest time” so even the hour or so of relative quiet I could manufacture while he read or played quietly in his room has turned into a relentless back and forth down the hallway with little sitting, resting, reading, writing, cleaning or other me-pursuits being accomplished. As a result, I spend the next two hours with steam coming out of my ears trying not to resent the fact that I haven’t had a break at all when even people with jobs are ensured a lunch hour. Or at least time in a bathroom stall by themselves without a two and a half year old peeking in asking 20 times what you’re doing or insisting that no, you don’t have to go potty now mommy, you need to PLAY!
Add that to pregnancy-induced narcolepsy and by the time peanut’s in bed and the dishes are done and I’m sitting down at 8pm, I’m completely useless.
So, honestly, all I want is 24 hours in a hotel/cabin/beach house where food appears when I ask for it, dishes are taken away when I’m done with them, bathrooms have doors that can be shut, showers can be as long as the hot water holds, I can sleep when I want, I can read all day in the sunshine/under the covers/in the shade of a tree with a subtle breeze. I want 24 hours to try to hear myself think because I’m not sure I’ve heard my inside voice muttering anything but grocery lists and evil whispers that turn into the most absurd food cravings in the last 3 months.
I don’t think I’d make it longer than 24 hours alone. I’d miss my boys too much, to be honest. But a little quiet time…a little time to answer to no one but myself…a little time away from the piles of laundry/dishes/toys/craft supplies/dust/responsibility would be refreshing.
Although a new bag and an hour for a nap in the afternoon would be nice, too.