Ethan has asked me every day of school this week if I am lonely.
I assure him I am not, but he keeps asking.
Which makes me wonder if he is worried about me or if I am giving the wrong answer.
This morning he told me that if I get lonely I can watch "that movie about us." I told him I would be sure to.
I'm still not sure how I feel about being on my own six hours a day. All of you that are deep in the trenches of babies and toddlers are rolling your eyes right about now. The thought of thirty minutes of freedom (let alone half the day) has you drooling. In fact, for some of you the thought of being able to go to the bathroom uninterrupted seems like a luxury vacation.
But I'll admit it's not as glorious as it looks from over there. This stage of motherhood is an adjustment. Just me and my thoughts knocking around the house.
And I got here sooner than I thought I would. My life plan had a few more years of babies in it. But things do not always go according to plan.
And so I am here. And it's quiet.
The melodramatic side of me knows that a part of my life is over. That the years with babies at my breast and hip are already gone. And perhaps it is a bit indulgent, but I believe that calls for a period of mourning.
You know that quote by Isak Dinesen about salt water being the cure for anything...sweat, tears, or the sea? I believe in that. Right now I'm using sweat and tears and getting through all right. I started a deep clean on Monday. Every drawer, every light fixture, all the baseboards and curtains. And when everything is pulled out and I'm overwhelmed by my own undoing I sit and cry a bit. It's working. I'm feeling better every day.
David is doing his best to understand. It is always an adventure. You never know what you're going to get when you wake up with me. On Wednesday, knowing the heaviness of my heart, he tried to be encouraging. As he went out the door he called, "Have fun at lunch!" which made me feel like my life had dissolved into nothing more than lunch dates and pedicures. He was trying to be bolstering, but I felt the loss more acutely than ever.
But I did have fun at lunch. Laughing with my friends about motherhood and marriage. And then I went to Barnes and Noble by myself and found a book about my growing girl's changing body that I will read with her this weekend.
And I saw it then.
Another door. Another room of motherhood.
Waiting for me all this time.
And while I get settled, there will be sweat and tears and dreams of the sea.