It's been a long week of being touched excessively. Meaning I have a small, crawling human that likes to be no more than zero inches away from my body at all times. But is still too little to learn "NO PINCHING" and thinks "OW" means "Please continue, this game is fun for all parties involved." Also, I should just have my eyeballs removed and shave all my hair off, because those are far too enticing to leave alone for any consistent amount of time.
The struggle is very, very real.
Before moving out of my parents house, before getting married, I used to spend a glorious amount of time alone. And I loved it. (Until I got lonely, of course, but that's just the conundrum of human nature.) But since then, the last time I was alone in a way that was fulfilling was when I demanded a weekend getaway from my husband and spent a dumb amount of money for a hotel room in phoenix and just peaced out for a day and a half.
Which is certainly not a sustainable coping mechanism.
And made me feel extremely selfish and guilty.
But was still exceedingly glorious and I read this entire book from start to finish in one long consecutive read.
Can't tell ya whether it was good to get it all over with at once, rather than elongate the mental empathetic torture, but I would say read this book if you're feeling like your life is hard and need a reminder of which blessings to count.
Reining back in to the point, there's very little 'me' left in the 'mommy' I've become. It's a great 'me' to be, but I miss having my own headspace, too.
I'm blessedly lucky to have a husband that listens to my desperate cry's for aid and has suggested that I just immediately take off the minute he gets home on Thursday evenings. I normally go to choir from 7:30-9:30 those nights, but they hardly feel like being alone when I'm busy making music with incredible human beings for those hours. Rewarding, but not the kind of break we're talking about here.
So now I'll probably just get to the building where we rehearse super early and just sit in the quiet and read many more books and my little bookworm heart will be all glowy. A glowbookworm?
He also upped his brownie points by a batter-full the other night when I got home after 11 o'clock with a sleepy Andy and went into his nursery to find his bed all made up, the lamp turned on so I wouldn't fumble around in the dark, and his clothes neatly stacked atop his dresser.
Speaking of hearts all aglow.
In the end, I guess this is all to say MAN PARENTING IS ROUGH but I do dearly love it. And my Ander is never short of smiles and giggles when I need them to brighten the days. So it balances out. Mostly.