"WOMAN ALONE" A.H. Clemens
People do their best to clue you in on a lot of things when you are about to become a mom. The sleep deprivation. That you are on-duty 24/7, and you must be "on" that entire time. The overwhelming responsibility. The bad jeans. But one thing that fails to come across is that as a mom, you are hardly ever, almost never, by yourself. Alone. Solitary. That's been one of the biggest shockers and toughest things for me for sure. Well, this morning the front door closed, the car pulled out of the driveway, and I am now home alone. And not just for an hour or two. Probably for more like seven or eight hours. So here's my list of things to do today (after I stop shrieking gleefully):
Clean the bathroom.
Clean out the refrigerator.
Organize the kids' closet.
Dust the blinds.
Change all the sheets.
Do a couple of loads of laundry.
Clip the dog's toenails.
Take a shower.
Finish Snook's scrapbook (for the first year of her life).
Sort the remaining mounds of baby photos.
Write a thank-you note.
Get a pedi-polish.
Try out that new Middle-Eastern-organic-sandwich shop.
Take a West-African dance class.
Walk in the late-summer rainstorm.
And I could not be happier. (Thank you, hon. Tomorrow's your day.)