I don’t normally like to be alone. I’ve been that way as long as I can remember. It’s made for some whiny and desperate moments that made boyfriends run and girlfriends sigh. But as any mother knows, having kids changes everything.
This weekend, my husband’s family was having a birthday party at a cottage two hours away. The first three hours of the party were titled “Sportsmania.” I am so not a sportsmaniac — plus, I woke up with pain in my back that would make two hours in a car (and three hours of playing sports) total misery.
So in an unusual move because I love my husband’s family, I opted out. In the middle of a sunny holiday weekend packed with barbeques and parties, I chose complete solitude.
After I shook off the guilt, I spent the afternoon in my garden. I planted herbs, I pulled weeds, I filled my patios pots with flowers we can’t afford. I took my time making a gorgeous salad and a pitcher of mint iced-tea for lunch.
Then I suited-up in my iPod and sunscreen and got back out to the sunshine to pull more dandelions. Strangely, the dandelions did not make me hate the world like they usually do.
When it was time for dinner, I grilled some salmon and ripped open a bag of salad and sat in front of the TV. My neighbor, who knew I was home alone, invited me over for a glass of wine. I declined. I was having too much fun.
After dinner, I walked to the movie store and noticed little flowers popping up everywhere. In the summer, JCrewville can seduce even the most urban cynic of small-town living. It’s one check on the plus side of living here.
At the movie store, I got the biggest, most shameful chick-movie I could find (“Bride Wars”). It was pure cheese, but that’s okay. Tonight, I answer to no one. While I was watching it, I sat in my pj’s and painted my toenails bright red.
Before bed, I called my family. Sportsmania and an abundance of brownies had my girls completely wiped out. Their voices sounded so little on the phone. They were weepy. “We miss you Mommy.” Selfishly, it made for the most incredible ending to the most perfect day.
I slept fitfully. Despite having all the covers to myself, it was kind-of creepy sleeping alone in the house. This morning I brewed an extra huge pot of coffee, made myself a vegggie omlette and ate it while lingering over the paper. Maybe I’ll take a nap before they get home — that is, if I can get over my giddiness.
I should get back to the garden, but I decided to stop here first (because I can!) and comment that sometimes being alone is a beautiful thing.