Monday, July 28, 2014

Waiting for Them to Come Home

Most moms experience camp weeks with remaining family members. If not other children, at least Dad is usually around around. Not me. Both of my guys are gone for the week. Except for the dog and the cat, the house is quiet. Mike is the Scoutmaster, after all. And, though I won't be surprised if Nick wants to come home midweek because, at the last minute he told me he wasn't sure he wanted to go, for now, I'm by myself.

It's funny how many times I've wished for just this, a solid length of time so I could complete a thought, so I could do a project, so I could have coffee with a friend, so I didn't have to clean up after other people all day long, or so I could read a book without being interrupted six times in fifteen minutes.

Now, here I am with plenty of time for projects, all day to read, and no one making any messes except me.

And I find myself waiting for my guys to get home. Be careful what you wish for, I've heard people say. It's true. I don't really want this time. I don't really want a week to myself. It's too quiet. I'm not bored. I have too much to do to be bored, but I'm procrastinating anything that isn't an immediate need. Yesterday, I did take Teddy for a long walk, but then I ate snap peas and hummus for dinner.

I woke up realizing that I should learn to be more independent. I should get the oil changed in my car because Mike won't get to it for at least a week after he gets home. I should check out our retirement fund and see how we're doing. I should mow the lawn. I should call the flooring people and ask them to come repair two places where it's buckling. Yes, I should do that before it's too late. I don't really feel like negotiating with the man. I'm figuring I'll have to negotiate with him. I don't want to have to write a nasty review. It's hard to write nasty reviews. Anger takes too much energy.

Yes, there are a dozen things I need to do before Saturday when the guys get home. I made sure I made a list of them before they left, when I was still wishing for that solitary time. I've done this a few times now. I knew I'd get into this funk. And eventually, I find my way back out. I do. It seems as though I'll get out of the funk just in time for them to come careening back through the front door with piles of filthy laundry to do, and two or three Dutch ovens to clean and season. Will I have printed all those pages I needed to edit? Will I have called my friends to catch up? Will I have worked on Nick's new quilt? It's a red and black quilt and he's already asked if he can paint his walls black to match it so I know he likes it. I told him he'd have to do that job himself and that it will take three times as many coats as white. That put a kibosh on the black walls. But first, I need to finish the quilt. There are boxes of books to get back onto shelves, bed linens to change, and photos to scan. It really isn't a bad plan for a week. I can afford to read a whole book or even two. I can go for a walk with a different friend every day. I can listen to NPR to my heart's content. and at night when I sit down, the remote is all mine. Romantic comedies are waiting.

And I'm the dork who will sulk for at least a day or two because my guys are at camp without me. I don't particularly want to go camping this time, but I also don't want to miss the chance to quilt and read and hang out with my friends and laugh at stupid my movies on TV.

I'd better get cracking. Time to myself is scarce, especially in summer. And the quiet minutes are ticking away.

Thank you for listening, jb

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