As I write this our eight-year-old is at a sleepover. It’s kind of like getting the parent’s version of a day off, right? But a day off of what, exactly?
One day off and the empty house echoes. I can hear every tick of the clock. Life feels a little 2D, really. There’s something I should be doing. I just know it. But I’m not sure what, exactly.
It’s funny. Some days I wish desperately to vacation alone for a week or even a day. I wish I didn’t have to play Monopoly over and over and over again. Or pack lunches and do dishes. Every. Single. Day. Lots of days I wish I didn’t have to come out of my shell and socialize with other parents at just one of our son’s 543 extracurricular activities.
But I couldn’t and I wouldn’t. I’d be a two-dimensional person, a shell of who I am as a mother, if there was no P.
Life would be different (duh). I would never have read and related to the brilliant Go the F* to Sleep! (Pretty much the best ever “children’s book” for parents). It’s unlikely I would have started a blog or continued writing (things I love to do). It’s VERY unlikely I would have continued to embrace life as I had as a child. His whole life is an inspiration to not waste my own.
Kids bring out the best in us. Yes, they can also bring out the worst in us, but if we’re paying attention our children change us for the better. It doesn’t always manifest itself in obvious ways, like motivating us to go back to school, get a better job or stop eating junk food morning, noon and night.
Sometimes kids change us for the better in more subtle ways, like getting us to notice pelicans flying over the river as we drive across the bridge to work or turning off the television and connecting with people more or even just realizing we can survive a lot. A lot.
P was born eight years ago and I’m still trying to figure out what in the world I did with all my free time before parenthood. For now I’ll just enjoy these rare days off.
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