I love my children. I love them more than life itself. An over used phrase, I know, a cliche that's lost its meaning. But I do and even with this intense, all consuming love, there are times when I think how nice it would be to just be me. Not a mom, not a parent. Just me.
I don't miss the BIG things not having kids allows, like two or three overseas trips a year, romantic unplanned getaways where you sleep in, order room service and sleep a little more. I don't miss my super cool Mini Cooper and I definitely don't miss the speeding fines I collected every month. Those things I can do without, do do without.
But what I yearn for is a long hot bath. The chance to immerse myself in my own dead cells and not someone else's. I would give my dried up ovary to pee in peace and not give a running commentary on how far I am, whether I've finished, whether I'm going to wipe or not and if I'm going to flush. Never mind the silent 'k' or 'w', I want a silent pee.
I can't remember when last I ate using a knife AND a fork and both hands. Long ago is the time Mark hasn't cut up my meal into chewable bites so that I can get some sustenance while rocking a baby on one knee and playing 'chook a chook a choo' feeding a hungry toddler. The small pleasure of eating a hot meal is a thing of the past, replaced by re-re-warmed cold congealed gravy, rubbery meat and powdery potatoes. Out of habit now, in meetings or at coffee shops, I let my tea or coffee cool down until it's ice cold because I assume that's how it's supposed to be.
To not have to share my cell phone, my laptop, my lipstick, nail polish, bed, space, sunglasses, my time. To not have to sit for 20 minutes guessing what a blob of paint on a page is, attending events hoping that the dress code "snot and vom'. I miss watching movies with a rating of 12, 14, 16 18. I miss NOT knowing the words to every show on the Disney channel.
To have a conversation that isn't about peeing, pooing or potty training and to not have to self censor my conversations with inverted commas and bleeps. I mean what the bleep is with that bleeping thing anyway. To have wild passionate unbridled sex without worrying about the permanent damage it will do to a child who overhears it or walks in on it. For the bed springs to be creaking and groaning because of the wild unadulterated sex and not because I'm bouncing a baby to sleep.
To not worry about running into a parent in the school when I'm drinking wine at 10am in the morning or smoking or wearing a skirt that's too short and and a boob tube or even worse drinking while smoking while wearing the boob tube and short skirt.
I miss doing NOTHING all day because I can and my afternoon naps that end when I want them to. I miss just 'popping' out the house and I miss spontaneous dinners with friends. I miss sitting in a quiet spot reading a book for hours on end. In fact I miss my quiet spot.
I'm not sure if sometimes missing these things makes me a bad mom or just an honest one...