Friday night was full of wild abandon as I filled the washer with clothes clearly marked hand wash. I threw out all of the half-open products in the refrigerator that someone wanted to save, but would never return to enjoy. Out went restaurant style salsa, bean dip, a half-eaten pizza and what may have once been an icee.
I tossed out clothing that had not been worn in years and would never be worn again. I emptied drawers and filled trash cans and danced about the house like a woman on a mission.

At the end of the wild day of "me" time, I collapsed into a tub of hot water to relax, not the one that no longer has any grout. Later I sat on the edge of my bed, in my PJs, looking about the empty bedroom and I remembered the time the kids would fly in and spring upon the bed in wild acrobatic moves. We would laugh and scream and giggle and covers would go everywhere. I saw the baby books on a shelf that we once read together, the one about the kitten with red shoes and the other about babies like mine who are soft and warm and cuddly. I miss those days. But a stronger and bigger emotion is the happiness that fills me when I think about those times gone by. What a wonderful time it has been giving my children all my "me" time that I could. It has been the greatest joy of my life.
1 comment:
Nice post. And I agree: I'm glad I gave my child all the time I've given her. I don't resent a moment of it. But every time she's gone off to have her own adventure, I luxuriate in me time. Mine is rarely as productive as yours however...
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