I confess.
But before I do, I need to state for the record that I love and adore my sweet husband and my three beautiful boys and would not change being with them for all the world. Honestly, I couldn't live without them and my heart would break if I had to. Losing them - I can't even go there in my thoughts because it's that tragic and unfathomable to me.
That being said...my confession, and it truly is a guilty one because I feel tons of guilt whenever I admit to it, is...
...this mother likes to be alone.
Away.
Away from the constant demanding (by kiddos) and asking of things (by all).
There are three boys and the world revolves around each of them.
Sometimes they talk to me like they are the only person in my world. Each one talks, oblivious of the other two boys who are also talking to me at the same time. It can be too much at times, not to mention hard on the ears and draining on the patience.
Maybe it's because I grew up an only child. It was just me and my Mom for the longest time.
I'm not use to active, constant running feet, constant interruptions or constant clamoring noise.
People pulling on me or taking up my space - though I did do that to my mother. Often.
Sorry Mom.
So my solution - whether consciously or subconsciously is to go into my bedroom and get on my computer or immerse myself in a novel.
My escape.
On the weekends, this where my husband finds me.
"Come join the family," he'll state, a longing look on his face.
You see he works five days a week and is away from his family most of those days. He doesn't really get to be with us as a whole except for the early mornings. And that's usually for about twenty minutes before the boys head off to the school bus.
Or in the evening for about two hours - most of the time in which he is dog-tired and semi-conscious after a long, busy day at work. So the weekends for him are cherished family time.
But I'm done by the weekend. Stick a fork in me. I'm a mole and I don't want to come out of my hole.
And sometimes I don't, leaving him to handle the kids.
Guilt riddles me when this happens but I don't move.
I reassure him repeatedly that I will come out but sometimes I procrastinate and don't come out right away. It takes up to an hour at times. Two hours.
t his mother, this nurturer,
But before I do, I need to state for the record that I love and adore my sweet husband and my three beautiful boys and would not change being with them for all the world. Honestly, I couldn't live without them and my heart would break if I had to. Losing them - I can't even go there in my thoughts because it's that tragic and unfathomable to me.
That being said...my confession, and it truly is a guilty one because I feel tons of guilt whenever I admit to it, is...
...this mother likes to be alone.
Away.
Away from the constant demanding (by kiddos) and asking of things (by all).
There are three boys and the world revolves around each of them.
Sometimes they talk to me like they are the only person in my world. Each one talks, oblivious of the other two boys who are also talking to me at the same time. It can be too much at times, not to mention hard on the ears and draining on the patience.
Maybe it's because I grew up an only child. It was just me and my Mom for the longest time.
I'm not use to active, constant running feet, constant interruptions or constant clamoring noise.
People pulling on me or taking up my space - though I did do that to my mother. Often.
Sorry Mom.
So my solution - whether consciously or subconsciously is to go into my bedroom and get on my computer or immerse myself in a novel.
My escape.
On the weekends, this where my husband finds me.
"Come join the family," he'll state, a longing look on his face.
You see he works five days a week and is away from his family most of those days. He doesn't really get to be with us as a whole except for the early mornings. And that's usually for about twenty minutes before the boys head off to the school bus.
Or in the evening for about two hours - most of the time in which he is dog-tired and semi-conscious after a long, busy day at work. So the weekends for him are cherished family time.
But I'm done by the weekend. Stick a fork in me. I'm a mole and I don't want to come out of my hole.
And sometimes I don't, leaving him to handle the kids.
Guilt riddles me when this happens but I don't move.
I reassure him repeatedly that I will come out but sometimes I procrastinate and don't come out right away. It takes up to an hour at times. Two hours.
Don't get me wrong, I love my family. I like being with people. I like
socializing.
I just find I need down
time during the hours when I’m actually alert.
Down time after the kids go to bed doesn’t count because my brain is
fried and I'm barely conscious.
Yes, even in my sleep, sometimes, I just want to be alone, much to the chagrin of my affectionate, snuggly husband.
But I cherish being alone and I'm finding that I want 'alone' more and more these days.
Maybe it’s my way to get a grip on the
wonderful intense craziness that is my life right now taking care of other human beings for 18 to 20 hours a day - thinking for them, planning for them, etc.
People tell me I'm going to miss all this one day.
I'm sure I will, knowing me.
However, right now,
However, right now,
in moments,
lots of moments,
just yearns to be alone more than anything else in the world.
lots of moments,
just yearns to be alone more than anything else in the world.
Linking up with Shell this week from Things I Can't Say and pouring my heart out...
