Today I stayed home from work because I have had a migraine and stomach troubles. I thought being home alone with the children at their grandparents’ house would be a chance to sleep, rest, and recharge, without the chaos of a three-year-old and a one-year-old running wild about the house.
As I lay in bed I rolled over and moved my hand underneath my pillow, unexpectedly finding a plastic dinosaur. I found little unmatched socks and Hot Wheels cars all over the house. Later I walked through the semi-dark living room and stepped on an errant puzzle piece while barefoot. I tried to take a nap on the sofa and could not get the Paw Patrol theme song to stop repeating over and over out of my head. As I ate my soup at the dining room table the empty pink ladybug booster seat and empty animal print high chair made me feel so lonely. The house is so silent without the kids asking me to read a book, singing songs, arguing over a toy. It just doesn’t seem right.
It’s funny that so often I feel like I would like to have time to myself to read a book, watch a television show that I want to watch, have an uninterrupted shower, or a walk outside alone – but when I do have time to myself I just want to be with my kids. I miss Oscar’s little giggle and his dinosaur rawr! I miss Abby’s silly jokes that don’t make sense, “Mom, why did the cow cross the road? Because he was looking for the chicken, get it?” I miss the hugs and snuggles and sweet little smiles.
They will be home soon and the house will no longer be quiet. There will be whining and crying and diaper changes. There will be food dropped on the floor and knocks on the bathroom door. There will be spilled drinks and toy throwing. There will be runny noses and slobbery kisses. And it will be perfect.