Most beautiful thing: Time Alone

Vincent van Gogh's Bedroom in Arles.

Some days you just need time to be alone. Sunday was one of those days.

John woke up five times on Saturday night with discomfort from teething and a cold.  He used the opportunity to scream as loudly as he could and then thrash about as Darren and I tried to calm him down.  Thank goodness for distractions like water, telephones, and old medicine bottles.  I know that this is nothing new when it comes to kids being sick and grouch, but I was pretty tired when 8:37 rolled around.  I woke up to find Darren and the kids almost ready for mass.  So, off they went while John and I relaxed, are breakfast, and watched an episode of “Edwardian Farm

By the mid-afternoon it was pretty clear that I needed a bit of space from the rambunctiousness of everyday life.  So, off went Darren and the kids to Krause Farm to find blueberries and play in the sand pit. And I had the house all to myself.

Of course, I did what any good mother would do, I cleaned up!  But here’s the thing.  I cleaned up by myself, in peace and quiet, with no one asking questions.  I was able to focus on a single task for more than two minutes at a stretch.  I took care of things the I wanted to take care of, not tasks forced upon me by the tyranny of the immediate.  It was luxury.

By the time Darren and the kids came home, I was refreshed and satisfied that I had got something done. Such a treat. And because I had missed mass in the morning, I got to go all by myself before dinner!  I saw some old friends after mass and I was even able to have an adult conversation without interruption.  Top it off with hamburgers for dinner and strawberries and cream for dessert, and that’s a pretty good evening.

All of this is thanks to Darren, who made me stay at home alone.  And he is right, I need to ask for a break more often.  So I will.

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