Wow, I see why Keeping It Real, The Best Life, and When Crazy Meets Exhaustion set this for Mondays. It is seriously tough to find some bright and shiny on a Monday. But after reading a few of the other posts and digging deep, I found some.
This past Friday was my birthday and I was feeling down. Not because I’m a year older, I’m ok with that, but because somehow once I gave my life over to motherhood birthdays have lost their special for me. I still had to get up and make lunches and change diapers and soothe cranky toddlers and mediate sibling fights. There wasn’t time to really have any, well, time.
But Saturday my in-laws took the kids for the night. It was the second time we’ve done this with both kids. The first was for the husband’s birthday in November and it went well, so I was less nervous this time. So at 3:45 on Saturday afternoon, the husband and I were foot-loose and fancy-free. We watched tv, we took our time getting ready, we went out and drank alcoholic beverages and ate yummy food and didn’t worry (too much) about when we got home. It was heavenly!
Yet, in the back of my mind, I kept feeling like I forgot something. Something like maybe, my children. I’m so used to having them with me, that it’s strange to be apart from them. By the next morning I was missing my little guys. After yoga, the apartment seemed empty and quiet. When my in-laws called from the drive to say they were there, I raced down to get them. Brady ran to hug me in classic, romantic-movie style and I picked him up and spun him around. Declan was sleeping in the carseat and let me pick him up and bring him upstairs without waking.
I need to get away sometimes, to go out and be a grownup and just take a breath. More than that I need to miss my kids sometimes, to be reminded of how much I like spending time with them and enjoy their little voices and faces and of how sweet and adorable they can be. I know it’s not ideal, or even possible, for every mother. For me, a night off can do wonders for my relationship with my children.