We all have those days when life is loud, raucous, and we almost wish we could leave behind the lover, the kids, or anyone who's part of all the noise. That day when we look around and think, God, I could really use a moment of quiet.
I've had more than a few of those days recently so when the opportunity came to go it alone I took it. We were on a family trip. A trip I'd planned to drive up to Pennsylvania and spend the weekend with family. By the time we pulled into Pittsburgh, we were all ready for a break.
Then a friend from home called to tell me she'd gone into labor. I exchanged a long look with my partner because we'd just driven eleven hours and I'd promised her I'd watch her toddler when she had her baby.
In the midst of chaos I scrambled to find any way to make it work. We pulled into our families place with my nose in the phone, booking the first flight from Pittsburgh to Wilmington. Through the disappointment of turning right around and heading home, I had one thought that kept going around my head, Maybe it will be best and I'll finally get some quiet.
After all my family would likely want to stay and enjoy the planned weekend. I was almost excited at the idea of being home alone as I boarded the flight and took my crowded seat.
Due to a layover I got home the following morning feeling worn out. I hadn't slept much in 34 hours and coffee was barely giving me any perk by then. As I collapsed into the couch in the cool air of my front room, silence seemed to engulf me in his arms.
It took all of three minutes alone before I started to lose my mind. You see I had my first son at 19 and I was his primary care giver. Before he was a year old I was expecting again. Chaos from crying babies, dirty diapers, meal times and the endless picking up of scattered toys had become my new normal.
The boys grew and diapers changed to dirty clothes from sports, more meals, carpool, school and everything in between. When both boys moved into Jr high, I thought, finally they'll mostly take care of themselves and I can have me time.
Then we found out I was pregnant again and that went out the window. In the past four years I've juggled a baby, the requirements of parent booster meetings, conferences and trying to kick-start my own writing career.
So, there I was thinking, two days of relative peace sounded like heaven. Just me and my friends toddler. No plans or meetings to juggle with her. Just the two of us and maybe a book or a new show on Netflix. But in that first three minutes of silence between getting home and worrying about picking up the toddler I thought I might literally go insane.
I missed my kids. I missed my partner. I even missed the brother and his wife that we'd planned on staying with. I actually found myself searching for the first flight back to Pittsburgh, so afraid was I of being alone.
It was a wakeup call for me and I realized just how little of my life I actually spend on me. In the three hours between landing and picking up my friend's kid I made myself take the time to do some of the things I haven't been able to do in years, despite constantly saying I'll do it tomorrow instead.
That three hours gave me so much perspective that I felt like a seasoned loner as I drove to the hospital. I love my kids and my family but every once in awhile I need a couple of hours for me. Time to think about what I want and need. Time to get my hair done or get my eyebrows waxed. Time that I get to use to focus on me because one day all of them will have their own lives and It'll be my time for quiet. By the time it does I want to know that I'll enjoy the quiet, pamper myself when I need it and maybe even be okay with it. Here's to hoping anyway.
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