This may shock you, but I very rarely have the house to myself. I know! Ha. Ha. Ha. Anyway, tonight I DO have the house to myself and I have no clue how to use my time. It seems that I’ve forgotten how to just be, which is not a good thing to discover.
It’s not that I can’t sit still, or that I am bored, it’s just that coming home to an empty (but holy hell, so very, very trashed) house leaves me a little disoriented. I guess it’s the possibilities that have me all discombobulated. I could do yoga to music that no one here but me likes; I could cook myself an awesome supper; I could take care of all my hand-washable clothes, or watch a movie without being interrupted. Or read — I could read! I could make phone calls, pay bills, balance my checkbook, catch up on email, knit, sew something, have a kegger, go to the beach by myself, rearrange the furniture, steam clean the carpet, or go for a walk. I could read blogs.
So far, I used my time by stopping at the pharmacy after work, collecting the mail, standing over the kitchen counter to eat dinner directly out of a take out container (was good, tho – grilled tofu topped with roasted zucchini, portabella mushrooms, roasted garlic, and pesto), opening a beer, and IMing with one of my most favorite human beings in the whole wide world. At this very moment I am downloading music from iTunes, figuring out which pj bottoms and tank top to wear, and trying to decide if I should deal with cleaning the bathrooms, the kitchen, or the living room first. I need to vacuum, change all the bedclothes, clean the duckweed from the washer and dryer (sore subject, don’t ask) and then wash some clothes. I think it’s hilarious that all of that sounds relaxing to me, simply because it’s quiet here and I can just chill and do stuff at my own pace with a beer in one hand and loud music on the other. (I don’t know, just go with it. It’s only a figure of speech.)
I’m sure that I’ll miss the kids tonight. Every night, or just about, one of them comes and finds me to snuggle. A night or two ago Willow got in bed next to me and said, Mama, turn your head toward me, please. I need your cheek. I don’t even know if she was really awake, but it was funny how formal her request was.
My grandmother on my dad’s side raised five children, though they were more spread out in age than mine are. She is always telling me how much she misses the noisyness of them. The mess and volume and energy. How quiet her house is now that all the children are long gone with grandchildren of their own. Now that my grandfather is not there with her. Enjoy this time, she says to me, I know it’s hectic and tiring, but some day it will be very quiet. Too quiet, and you’ll miss this all so very much.
I know I will.