It's Friday night. I am home alone. I am blissful. I am peaceful. Somehow it's different than being home alone all day every day. Then I am lonely and bored. Tonight I am content.
It was so thrilling to decide what I wanted for dinner. Just me. What did I feel like having? I didn't have to worry if someone would complain that they didn't want it or we had just had something similar or any other thing. I took leftover rapini, peas, mushrooms, ground sausage, tomatoes and scallions and sauteed it. Then I grabbed some portabello mushroom ravioli out of the freezer I've been wanting to try. I tossed it all together and topped it with some grated parmigianno regianno and I have to say, it was decadent. I poured myself a glass of chablis and ate while I read my new book I'd started, on the front porch no less.
This is one of the most relaxing nights I can remember in a long time. I don't have to drive anyone anywhere nor pick them up. Lately on weekend nights, I've been picking my daughter up from a friend's between 10 p.m. and 10:30 p.m. Almost every night she dances until 9 or later and it's such a pain just waiting every night. There is no settling in and relaxing because I know I have to just get up and drive 20 minutes to pick her up. Now that she is going to a friend's on weekends, the ritual continues.
Of course, I want my kids to have a full social life but I am not a night owl. Not by any stretch of the imagination. I am all about mornings. Yesterday, by the time the kids left for school, I had almost all of my windows washed (inside and out). I feel like if I don't have things done by 10 a.m. that I've wasted the day. That's just how I'm wired. For me to stay up is really hard. I am beat by the time night rolls around.
I think more than the aloneness, it is the break from responsibility that I am enjoying. Everyone is where they need to be and I have nothing to do with any of it. It's nice. It's a glimpse into what my life is going to be sooner than I know it.
I also love that my husband has been working that last few weekends at the bar. It's strange but I like him not home at night. For years he worked 3-11 and it was just the kids and I. I had a routine and we were like a well-oiled machine. I loved when he was off because it was like fun day but by the time he went back to work, I was ready. I like routine. Then for years, he worked every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night at the bar. I think I just got used to being alone at night.
When the kids were young, on Friday nights, I would bring laundry upstairs and fold it and put it away and the kids would hang out in my room watching tv while I did it. One Friday, my son told me Friday nights were his favorite because we were "all cozy upstairs and everything was so warm." It's funny. That's exactly how I remember it. We were cozy. They would have their baths and be in their jammies and all of the lamps would be on creating a snuggly feel in all of the bedrooms as I went room to room and got things in order for the weekend.
We were so happy. We were so content. We had nothing, materially, yet we had everything. If I could, I would go back and hang on to those days. They've gone so quickly. Everything has flown by. My kids will be a senior and a junior in high school come the fall. I wish I had appreciated that time that I thought was so stressful. The little things that came day to day with having small children close in age were nothing. Nothing. I only wish I had known then what the future would hold. I would have appreciated those little moments a whole lot more.
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