Even Better Than A Ceramic Handprint
Today I got exactly what I’ve always wanted for Mother’s Day: A Day to myself. A day to slough off the constraints of motherhood and just be Kimberly for a while. Not that I’m not always me; for good or bad, my insistence on being true to myself is one of my defining characteristics. But I am almost always being some variation of the Mommy Kimberly. You know how it is, even when the kids are at school, or asleep, or playing nicely in the other room, you are still on mommy duty. And when you’re a solomom, there really isn’t anyone to hand off to at the end of the day. So, I am always on.
Except, not today. Today I played hooky from motherhood. Today I pulled the parenting equivalent of Senior Skip Day. Today I dropped off the Ladies (Diva Girl at school; Zen Baby at Gramma’s) and then I hit the road with one of my best friends.
Not once during the 90 minute trip to the happiest place in the world did anyone ask, “Are we there yet?” complain that someone was touching them, or demand to stop at McDonalds for a potty break. And that wasn’t even the best part of the day!
We wandered through at a leisurely pace. I took as long as I wanted looking at things. Picking up objects, touching fabrics, and, I confess, even hugging this rug.Without having to worry that anyone was going to break anything or listen to any whining about how boring this whole day is. In the rougly two hours it took us to tour the store, not once did I utter any of the following phrases:
“Don’t touch that.”
“Put that back.”
“Come back here please.”
“Please Keep up.”
“No, I’m not buying that.”
Pure bliss. But that wasn’t even the best part.
The best part was that I didn’t even realize it. Not in that “didn’t recognize how great it was until it was over” way, but in that “so thoroughly enjoying the moment I have no time to stop and analyze the moment” kind of way. I was too busy talking and laughing with Karla about anything and everything in our lives to even realize that I had let that constant mom-vigilance go. That absloutely no part of me was not fully present in my conversation with my friend. No part of me was tracking Sabrina, or searching for a sippy cup for Regan, or frankly, thinking about my kids at all.
All I was thinking about was my unabashed love of polkadots and talking Karla into getting the perfect bedding to inspire a whole new room. The shiny, pretty, cheap things at Ikea inspired me to really put some thought and effort into my home. To put my stamp on this bland beige box of a space and make it a home rather than simply a place to sleep and store our stuff.
The changes in our home aren’t just limited to decor, though. It’s a whole new attitude. Even though we were only gone a few hours I arrived home a renewed mother. One who is excited, relaxed, and refreshed. And that–the space to reconnect with myself that allowed me to rekindle my enthusiasm for my life, all of my life–is the best Mother’s Day present ever.