I’m sitting at my kitchen table sucking in the last few blissfully quiet moments before the phone rings. I know the call is coming soon and I’m both looking forward to it and wishing it would come tomorrow.
My house is empty. It’s just me and my dog. And it’s been that way since Friday at noon. Deep breath in. Hold it. And exhale. That’s right. 2 days. No children hanging onto me, wanting my attention every waking moment. No screaming. No worries about what to make for dinner. No husband asking where things are. Nothing. Just quiet.
I think my quiet has been that much sweeter because I didn’t even ask for it. My sister didn’t know my husband had a trip planned, she and my brother-in-law just wanted the weekend to play with my kids.
I stayed home instead of crashing their party because there is so much to do here. We’ve just moved back home after having some work done to the house and everything is everywhere and it’s covered with drywall dust. Besides the fact that tax season is coming and once again, in my brilliance, I’ve left it all to the very last-minute.
I’ve had two blissfully peaceful days to get everything done. Yet, I’ve done nothing.
I had plans of working hard and then seeing if my new and most awesome friend would help me take a break by going to a movie. Instead I did nothing. Oh sure, the house looks a little better, I’ve pittered away at things. I’ve organized, which is to say I’ve completely wasted my time because it will all be undone once my two little tornadoes come home. Out will come the Lego to be strewn all over the floor. Books and baby dolls will again become the carpet in my daughter’s room.
So much more could have been accomplished except that each time I would start a task my comfy chair would start calling me. Whispering to me. Inviting me. And frankly, who am I to be rude.
At one point, I even found myself standing there looking out our new back window. For ages. Thinking. With no background noise.
Don’t get me wrong, I am desperately looking forward to my house being filled with hugs and chatter again. And, honestly, when I found out Lily wasn’t feel well I really did have to fight the urge to drive the two and a half hours to pick them up. But fight that urge I did.
A little me time has done me good.
Now, after a little rest, some extra sleep and two really good episodes of Hoarders maybe I’ll be a little less grumpy come tomorrow when Real Life gives me a big ole wet willy to get me out of bed in the morning.