Thursday, September 17, 2009

La Vie Boheme

I've written this post so many times, over and over in my head. I like to think that's how writers "think". But most writers follow that with actual writing. I've continued to blog in my head, the obvious issue with that being that all of you are not, sadly and joyously, in my head. Imagine that living nightmare , if you would.

And, for my Facebook readers, please know you are reading my BLOG, it just so happens that I embraced our A.D.D.-generation and it automatically imports to FB for you. No clicks necessary! But (warning bells), I'm thinking of changing that.

Today I can wait no longer. Why have I not put ink to paper in so long? Or fingertip to delicate tapping sound?

I need to write that post on our vacation in Ithaca. How it wasn't all that I'd planned. How life happened, and the extra appendage known as Toddler was still that. How I still felt that need to break free of... my own life. When my Mom took us to see Rent, and, upon watching the stunning closing number, feeling the sudden rise of emotion, uncontrollable, unfettered emotion, upon realization that life really is measured in love? That above all else, no matter the frustrations and agony that is the human existence, love is what is measured? What else do we take with us?

My frustration of late, which I share so readily here, has been the one-ness of my life. The constant-ness of being solely in charge of a two-year old life (okay, not solely*. But I don't always have The Village around me when I need it!)

There have been few times in my life when I wanted to be alone. As a kid, I was never alone. I didn't live alone in college. I hated living alone for a two-month period after college, and bent over backwards to get out of that house, and town, to have a roommate again. I wouldn't go get a bite to eat by myself. I would never consider going to see a movie alone. Never, ever. Death!

I have been, and until recently believed myself to always BE, a true Extrovert by Myers-Briggs standards. Preference: People.

Having a constant, two-foot high companion (at times, appendage) definitely has made me yearn for the times when I am completely. And utterly. Alone. Being bossed around by a two-foot-high stack of concentrated energy actually takes a lot out of a person. Let alone a person carrying another person around in utero.

Don't get me wrong. I always respected those confident-looking coffee shop dwellers engrossed in their books. I just wanted to be engrossed in conversation with them.

On Wednesday this week, otherwise known as NewFreedom Day, my toddler went to preschool for 3 hours in the morning. Ironically, as duty would have it I had to appear at the doctor's office, where I jubilantly read the paper in the waiting room. The paper! But in running my requisite solo errands thereafter, I found myself on a bit of a high. An alone high. Happy to just be. Alone. Inconceivable!

The Moms are supposed to hide as the two's come down the hallway from the playground, so we don't distract them from their line-forming concentration. We hid. I peeked. I spotted my toddler, following the direction of the teachers, in a line of two-foot high people. Looking up at times, bewildered. Furrowing his brow, making his miniature way in the world. Obviously pooped from the stimulation that is toddler-hood.

It happened. Tears came to my eyes. I missed him. I missed him so much, in my alone-ness. My reconvening with my independent Self. I couldn't wait to catch up with him. After three hours.

* Because my husband reads my blog.


jen September 17, 2009 at 9:11 PM  

i do the same thing every time i actually get away from my girly-girls. i long to be with them and sometimes wish away the aloneness.
and i think that's the good part about it.
i remember my grandma (a mother of 6) telling me once that it's good for me to get away so that she learns to be herself too. and if and when it chances that i HAVE to be away ... she will be more ok than if i just am gone without preparation.
it was a very smart thing to say. and i bought into it. but it doesn't mean that i miss them any less when i'm away.
hang in there mama.

Casey September 18, 2009 at 7:51 AM  

Aww, you'll learn to appreciate the alone time eventually, I promise. I AM one of those people who will go to a movie solo or go get a pedi by myself if I can squeeze it in. It's just nice to be detached and regroup for a bit and it makes me appreciate my family all the more.

Anonymous,  September 18, 2009 at 8:45 AM  

I felt that way a bit on J's first day of preschool.

I loved the time apart, but I was really starting to miss him after 3 hours.

Glad to see you back in blogland again.

septembermom September 18, 2009 at 10:17 AM  

I understand those feelings. I usually get my alone time around 11 p.m. and I'm always too tired to enjoy it :)

Jeanne September 18, 2009 at 12:13 PM  

Now that my daughter is grown and gone, I look back on those days with a sense of loss. And then happily plunk my butt in front of the computer, or the TV, or on the front porch with a book and revel in my autonomy.

To every thing there is a season....

Wilkington September 18, 2009 at 1:12 PM  

I got to spend a whole weekend with just my husband just recently and the whole time we were thinking, "I wonder if Zoe will miss us?" "Do you think she's having fun at Grandmama's house?" I get to spend lots of time away from her for work, and I enjoy that time alone ALOT, but I'm always really happy to see her, too!

H.K. September 18, 2009 at 4:57 PM  

Totally understand how you're feeling.

My son had severe separation anxieties that didn't end until he was about 4 years old. He was stuck to me like glue! When he's with me, I really needed alone time and when he wasn't with me, I missed him! It was a no-win situation.

Sabrina September 18, 2009 at 9:43 PM  

Wow--you might as well be in my brain.

Janna Bee September 20, 2009 at 7:01 PM  

I totally feel you. It's the weirdest thing to just want some alone time- and then miss them the when you are alone.

Carrie September 22, 2009 at 1:27 PM  

I was just having this conversation with a fellow ex-colleague the other day. We both were lamenting what it was like to be on the road and actually only worry about what time WE had to go to bed and what WE were going to eat for dinner that night etc. I remember missing my family and my child so much while I was gone, never really understanding the wonderful gift that I had to be aloe for just a little while.

buffalodick October 9, 2009 at 6:56 PM  

Wait until your kids leave home, and are on their own.. You will grow up as they have, and realize the cycle of life started long before you..



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