Marty is very clever really. He knew that I would grumble a bit about being left with all the kids for the weekend while he went and did a 160km bike ride (why anyone would choose to ride that distance unless necessary I will never understand)...so he arranged to take them with him to his sisters house, leaving me with just the baby. A cunning plan, and an opportunity that won't crop up again quickly as Aunty is soon to have her own child to keep her busy! So I am sitting here, enjoying the sound of silence and contemplating whether to read my book, do a workout or watch a movie next. Bliss.
Last night they left in a bundle of happy noise at 6pm, and I managed to give myself a facial, watchTWO movies and a couple of TV shows and still was in bed by 10.30pm (Luke was in bed by 5.30pm yesterday, hence the long evening!). I wish I could say I was relaxed and chilled out completely, and I certainly tried my best, but I am still not that great in the house alone in the evenings. After 8 months of living with major anxiety and panic attacks and a horrid neighbour that was relentless in making my home a place of frayed nerves, I am still healing from that experience 3 years later. I spent half the evening wondering whether some party was going to start up, and if it did, how was I going to deal with that with no car to escape in and without the option of my ipod to help me sleep - I can't exactly block my ears and tune out when Luke might wake up and need the only adult in the house. Thankfully, the street was silent and tiredness won out, I fell asleep quickly.
I forgot what having one child in the house is like. I slept until 8.15am (OK, Luke woke at 6am, but he went back to sleep after a feed) and got Luke up. He pottered quietly around the house while I enjoyed an omelette and coffee, before I gave him a nice quiet breakfast and sung to him. We read books in the sun together after breakfast. No girls bickering over who gets to be the teacher next, or asking for food. No husband watching horse races on trackside. The sound of quiet and the slow pace of the morning was like a long hot bath...utterly blissful.
I remember watching an episode of comedy "The Middle" a while ago where the mother of three had asked for a mothers day alone and totally being able to relate to the plot. Dad took the kids out for the day, and she was so excited, thinking about all the things she was going to do - read a book, paint her nails, have a bath. But as she sat down, one thing after another kept jumping out at her to do while she had a moment, and she ended up spending the entire day doing chore after chore. When the kids came home with dad, happy and bubbling after a nice day out, she burst into tears because she had worked her day away!
Well, I had a similar moment this morning. I had just had a shower, and was popping the smoke alarm back into place in the hall (I had taken it down so that I could leave the door open to hear Luke who was crawling around), when I realised that it was filthy with fly poo. Gross. I will just grab a wet wipe and clean that away....there....oh no, wait...now the light shade next to it looks awful...I will just clean that too....hmm...while I have a cloth in my hands, I wonder how the rest of the house looks...
After cleaning another two shades, I realised that I was the mum in "The Middle". I was going to spend my day doing chores if I wasn't careful. STOP NIKKI. SIT DOWN.
So I am going to force myself now to make a coffee, sit on my bottom in the sun and read my book. I will enjoy this day, even if I have to force it on myself by sheer will!
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