I always wonder why it is that being alone in my bedroom is something I crave.
After a long day, if I have survived and everyone is fed and has all limbs attached
Well, my aching body...it just NEEDS to be alone. Blissfully alone, freedom.
And now, no spit up or poop.
I don't ask for a lot. I realize that NOW I am not my own. I have to share myself with my family. People NEED things from me; company, laundry, love, hugs, laughs, tickles, but mainly, most importantly, love.
I give, give, give...
But sometimes I just need 15 minutes of uninterrupted time without having to scrub cat barf off the floor, fold laundry, start the dishwasher, fix the toilet, etc. (The former mentioned was my previous attempt at "alone" time).
Now I have a hubby who is hands on with our son on all days but especially hands on for Monday nights which are MY nights. Where I lock myself in my room with a snack and watch Intervention while catching up on blogs and maybe even writing.
And for an hour or two I am MYself, all by MYself, and I am content in my solitude.