My mother has gone to her 40th high school reunion (and would KILL me if she knew I blogged that fact) and The Dude has been with my family all day and tonight, so after Mom (AKA: Dah) left tonight I have the whole house to myself. I've tried to distract myself with a movie my father recommended and that I've wanted to watch for a while now, "Knowing," with Nicholas Cage, and while it is very interesting during a bathroom break I was, inevitably, drawn to the computer for my hourly internet fix. And so here I am.
While I feel as if I should feel lucky - nay, blessed - to have this time to myself to do whatever I want to do, I am still not naked and dancing around the house, or causing any sort of ruckus, or calling friends or basically having "me" time. All I want is for my family to bring The Dude home so I can talk to him and hear about his day and how we're going to go to my friend Sarah's house (her son, Jacob, is The Dude's bff) tomorrow to go swimming and/or hang out, depending on the unpredictable Tennessee summer weather.
I just want him home. At any other time I would beg for alone time, for time to think and read and breathe without him underneath me, without his constant chatter and questions and climbing into my lap, but without him I feel... aimless. And I can't stand that. I'm not that Mommy - I am constantly busy and writing and networking and professional, yet when I have these moments, these stolen, golden hours, my hand twitch and my whole body leans toward him, needing him, his small hands and piping voice and constant need.
What did I need before I needed him?