I was in the shower this morning and my daughter came in to ask me if I was wearing my bathing suit to the park today. What? That couldn’t have waited 5 minutes till I got out of the shower? And why does she care? I mean, she’s seven. Her idea of matching clothes involves a purple tutu, a green shirt and sparkles in her hair. This is the kid who tells me I look beautiful when I do something outrageous like comb my hair. (I know I have set the bar really low on this one.)
It got me to thinking about being alone. Say it with me now, alooone; really draw out the oooooh. I think I just had a mouth-gasm. Or maybe my brain just disengaged for that 1/5th of a second and fell asleep. Whatever, it felt good.
My husband has been working monstrously crazy hours; on nights nonetheless. Even when he’s here, he’s a shell of the sexyman Tschida I married. I have watched him fall asleep sitting straight up in the middle of a sentence. An average day I see him for about 2 hours, kids one and two only see him about 45 minutes. On his blessed days off he tries really hard but he’s a zombie who sleeps all day and sneakily watches infomercials at 3 AM in bed next to me, so as not to wake me up. There is very little engaged communication going on in our house right now. There is even less alone time.
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