My first big break

It would be rather disingenuous of me to say that in the 11 years of my child’s life I have never had a break. I have. Hours snatched here and there. But one night? Two? Three full days? Never.

When my child holidays, I holiday. My Husband has had entire days alone with no parenting responsibility. I have never. I have never wanted one. Sure, I’ve been away for work but that doesn’t count now does it?

Just recently my Husband and child went away for three entire days. 50 minutes in to their departure and I was riding high. I thought, surely, this is how men must feel all the time. For the entire time they were away I forced myself to put a pause on the to-do lists and all the other things that fill a life. I just relaxed in a way that I have never truly relaxed before.

I knew B. would love to go on a ghost tour to an old jail (or is it goal?) but I didn’t even let myself Google it. I knew it was freezing cold where they were. I knew they were seeing snow. And I didn’t once text “are you wearing gloves” or “how’s the weather?” I just left it.

It felt so luxurious. But after a day and a half I felt the high of a life alone start to wane.

I missed them. I missed the bed snuggles and chats with B. Brushing her hair. Taking Vitamin D tablets every day with my Husband. All those little things that make a life.

Now that I’ve experienced the utter joy of relishing in perfect alone time I know I need it. Not once every 11 years. Perhaps once a year? Or once every six months? How did I go so long without it? I have never lived alone and those 3 days were utterly delicious. So quiet. So perfect.

I watched Marvel movies. I watched a heck of a lot of Apple TV - Loot & Morning Wars. And then I started to get these hopeless pangs of longing for my Husband and his… assets…? My own fingers are surely not up to the task?