A Day *Gasp* Alone?!

I can't believe it. Even as I sit here typing this I am incredulous, giddy with excitement even. After the morning rush of off to school and work which included but was not limited to - scrambling to dry white shirts, prying 2 sleepy children out of bed with the help of a mini funnel/megaphone wielding toddler man, making 3 lunches, a cold shower (someone always flushes the toilet or runs the water it never fails), 5 breakfasts with an overly eee-yat interested toddler turned boot hanging off my leg, brushing my hair while putting socks on to get out the door in time to drop 2 children to two different bus stops at two different times, 1 daycare excited toddler and a tired, haggard bear husband to the train - I'm home. Alone.

I'm not at work. For the whole day. There is no one in my house except my three very overweight cats, my mini wiener dog, J's rat and our fish. And me. I can't even remember the last time I had the entire house to myself.

Where do I begin? What shall I do? The possibilities are endless! Should I catch up on laundry? Do dishes? Or even *gasp* nap? Or maybe I'll check out what's happening in the daytime television world. Are Nicole and Brady and item again? Did Chloe get her baby back from Phillip? It's been so long.

"Like sands through the hourglass - so are the days of our lives..."

It's amazing how quiet things are when the hustle and bustle of daily life just slows. It's like time stops. I can hear the tick of the ceiling fan - does it always tick like that? I never noticed before...

The thing I realized is, as parents we tend to become so wrapped up in what's happening with everyone else and making sure no one is parachuting off the roof  everything is running smoothly that it becomes easy to forget ourselves. What it feels like to be alone in our own space. It's a weird feeling. Like I should be running to grab the hockey stick from P before he wacks the wall with it again, or be on high alert for the crayon mine on the way to the washroom in case I slip and fall on one or lose an ankle to a lego. I have to keep reminding myself that the legos and crayons were put away and they will stay away for the next 5 hours.

The truth is, I miss everyone in the quiet. I crave the chaos. I've become an addict. Yes I enjoy the peanut butter hugs right after I just put on my only white work shirt and am on my way out the door. If I didn't I wouldn't keep a shirt on standby every day for just that reason. I also enjoy the morning breakfast routine "she's sitting too close to me!" "Don't touch me" "uhhhh why does she always have to smile at me??" "Mommmy mommmy mommy mommy - waffle, waffle, here, here, mine." Maybe I'm a bit crazy but I find it almost comforting to an extent. Or maybe that's what parenthood does to you - turns you crazy....

Despite missing the chaos I feel like today will be a great experience into the unchartered territory of aloneness. I may get bored and start harassing the cats, or try out meditation again. 

Actually, on second thought, I think I'll start by taking an un-interrupted bath - with the door open. From there the possibilities are endless....