Yea, I don't even know what happened. I took a nap and woke up to Jason giving me two choices: "either you can stay home and have an afternoon to yourself or you can come to Tulsa with us"...
What?!
It honestly was a hard decision. Being away from my son just feels wrong. No matter the circumstances. We are RARELY ever separated.
However, I have been really neeeeeeding some uninterrupted art time. Since that time is basically unheard of, now that it is offered... it was a no-brainer. Even if it felt like I was missing out on family time.
So, they just left... I lovingly dressed and kissed and banana-fed my son before hitting the road with his fellow adventurer, Dad and.... here I am. Walked back into a house, still, so still. I sit on the length of my couch, looking around at mess and light and it seems lacking, as if there should be noise and bodies completing the scene... odd for it to be so quiet here. Abandoned toys frozen in silence... the only life in the house seems to be coming from the clock up and to my left.
Chk, Chk, Chk,
as if on repeat... as if it is stuttering over and over, unable to free itself from it's boring schpeel, this clock.
In spite of the awkwardness of this house kind of sleeping, resting till the next takeover, it is nice to sit here for a moment. No one needing me. Just for a moment. Thoughts, not letting me forget my task, keep reminding me, I must take advantage of this precious time... I feel like a child on Christmas... excited and in awe of the wonder of the season, but afraid that all too soon it will be gone, and instead of the anticipation of what may happen, I will be left with what didn't happen or that either way, even if it happened nicely, it is still gone again... just the reality that those moments passed by and they always give way to the hustle and bustle of the every day... no one treats the every day as special or to be seized... as if they allow themselves that excuse of Christmas to feel magical and whimsy, and then the season passes and you must push push push, back to business, strapped to the mundane, if you will... So for now, like one of these blocks, books, or toys, I am still, purposefully freezing myself... taking in the refreshment of anticipation and the unkown... busy makes time fly... and this time is so rare. Once a year, kind of.... like Christmas for a child...
Deep breath in....
(Sigh) Okay, on to the art room to fill every second left available with creativity and energized focus... to do anything I can fit in this time that I have trouble finding time for when the boys are home. I can feel myself on the inside getting in move-mode... already separating myself from the scene of stillness... the slow and steady ticking of the clock, reminding me that though time is really this methodically slow sounding.... once I move, the noise will fade from my ears and it will seem to whiz, without a sound, on by... but if I can have that full sense of accomplishment at the end of this small fraction of alone time, then I won't feel like I lost any of it.
So here I go.