A Break

Two mornings this week the boys will be heading to the home of a beloved friend/child-care provider. No, I will not give you her name and phone number, she's mine.

I need a break.

I need a few hours alone in my home.

I'm beginning to feel overwhelmed by the piles of out-of-size and out-of-season clothes, the too-small cloth diapers overflowing from a bin, the unwashed baseboards and walls sticky with fingerprints.

It has taken me far too long to admit that I need a break.

I feel as if I shouldn't need a break. These are my children and I am lucky to be able to spend these short years home with them basically full-time.

I should cherish these moments because they are short.

I will yearn for them the moment they are gone.

And yet, I drop them off anyway, run to my car - giddy and guilty when faced with the idea of a few hours alone.

I drive around without the radio on. I love the silence.

I eat lunch sitting at the table. I love sitting.

I tidy up and then it's time to go get them.

I barely got anything accomplished, and I am disappointed. It will take some practice - this taking a break thing, but I don't mind.  All great things take practice.