Showing posts with label time alone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time alone. Show all posts

Friday, March 29, 2013

Quiet, Please.

George and Claire went out together for a few hours yesterday. I was alone in the house. I let the obligations go. I listened to the blood rushing through my head, the heat circulating through the pipes, my breath's rhythm.

Silence like this is novel. It's quiet when my baby is asleep. But not silent. The absence of sound becomes filled with my anticipation of her cough, a bad dream, or a movement of some kind.

A mother's connection to her child makes a sound, even when her child naps.

Yesterday, I had free time. Free time. Let the words roll over your tongue slowly. Imagine not being hurried, not being needed, not feeing like you're stealing a moment for yourself.

Yesterday, I didn't want George and Claire to come home. I wanted to run away. I didn't want to have any responsibilities.

mommy me time

I write often about the way our identity changes when we become a mom, the reshuffle of priorities, the parts of ourselves that get put aside, because of the all-encompassing nature of being a parent. I don't write about my hatred for how these changes make me feel sometimes, or how I want to quiet the voices in my head.

You see, it's just that I don't want to choose between me and my daughter. I don't want to see my daughter as a chore. I don't want to have limits. I don't want solitude to get pushed aside. I want there to be more time and less obligations. I want my husband to take her more. You see, before Claire, there was more time. It all makes me so mad, I could jump up and down and throw a tantrum the likes of which even my daughter couldn't muster.

But, then, I feel guilty.

"I called my daughter a chore! How can I want to run away from my family?" I start to panic a bit, making up doomsday scenarios in my head. "What if they went away forever? That would serve me right." Self-recrimination sets in about now. "I need to just suck it up! I need to just be grateful for the time I have. I don't even work and I only have one kid; I don't have nearly as much on my plate as some people. What am I complaining about? I need to stop complaining!"

There are many truths. other than the ones in my head. I know that my feelings will pass. I know that I could not do without my daughter and husband for that long. I like that they need me. I need them too.

I also know that I really do need more time for myself. And that I'm probably not going to get it.

Yes, so many truths. Ones that refuse to be reconciled.


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