Time Alone Is Precious
Posted by Arwen Mosher in Just me on Tuesday, September 15, 2009 10:49 PM
Being a mother of little ones is strange. I often have no idea what day it is, but I can tell you almost to the minute how long it’s been since the last nap or the most recent potty break, and exactly how many hours there are between now and bedtime.
I rarely consult my calendar, but I live my life by the clock.
This morning, with my sister babysitting, I got to leave the house for some precious time to myself.
A few years ago, all of my hours outside of school or work were my own. Sometimes when I had a class-free afternoon, I’d go to the bookstore, browse with a hot beverage in hand, then sit and blissfully read the whole afternoon away.
This morning as I drove away from my house, I glanced at the clock on the dashboard and sighed inwardly, remembering those leisurely days. Today, I had one hour and forty-five minutes to spend at the coffee shop and the bookstore. The time would be ticking away every moment I was there.
Then I glanced in the mirror and caught the sight of two car seats. Just a few years ago the back seat of my car usually held only library books or dry cleaning that I needed to deliver. These days my back seat is rarely empty: two small voices chatter at me wherever we go.
Back in the days when I could spend relaxing afternoons at the bookstore, I prayed constantly for the chance to have a child seat in my car. I wouldn’t have thought it possible that just a few years later, I’d have two.
My time away from home this morning was relaxing. I did have to keep my eye on my watch the whole time. But when I came home I walked in the door, my mind flashed back.
I used to return from my relaxing afternoons to a house that looked exactly how I’d left it. It was quiet, peaceful, neat.
Now there are toys on the floor, and quiet is a rarity. But the curls on my toddler’s head bounce as she runs to greet me, and my baby son gives me a two-toothed grin.
It’s easy to romanticize the days when I had so much time to myself. Life is busier and messier now, but when I take the time to look closely, I remember the truth, that it’s much better, too.
I can still tell you how many hours there are until bedtime. Some of those hours will be difficult. The good part is that they’ll also be infinitely more precious than any I ever spent alone in a bookstore.
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