My wise mother once told me that parenting was like being between a rock and a hard place. “You look forward to a little time away from the kids, but when the time comes, you miss them.”
This, my friends, is the truth. The rest of the Cumings family is in Duluth this weekend, and while I am incredibly bummed to miss the family fun, I will admit: the thought of sleeping until I wake up on Saturday morning (and, if I’m still tired, going back to sleep) had me a little giddy. Peace and quiet. A chance to be lazy or a chance to clean the house. Sweet solitude.*
But when I drove home by myself Thursday night, I flinched a little at the sight of the newly barren back seat. And when I walked upstairs and saw their dark, empty bedrooms, my heart sank. Rock. Me. Hard place.
Of course, like most of life, parenting is a both / and kind of thing. So, while I am missing my children, I am not utterly bereft. Exhibit A:
Mall pretzel. Jalapeno cheese sauce. Lemonade. New library book. For this soft landing spot between the rock and the hard place, we give thanks.
What’s your favorite thing to do on your own?
*Except for the parts of the weekend where I officiate at a wedding and do Sunday morning pastor stuff, of course. (Which is the happy reason I am sadly missing the family fun, for all you inquiring minds.)