HOME ALONE

Usually, I am all about my family. My kids and husband are the center of my world, and usually everything I do revolves around their schedules. But, well…this past week I was home alone.
That’s right. I was home by myself for six days straight. My husband and two kids traveled to western Pennsylvania as part of a mission trip with our church. I valiantly volunteered to stay behind and hold down the fort.
In other words, I did all kinds of things I don’t do when they’re here. I was in charge of the remote. I watched movies no one else likes. I read books in the living room at four o’clock. I even did my favorite activity...going to sleep early- just because there was no one around to tell me that I really shouldn’t be tired and it was too early to go to sleep.

Yes, it was completely empowering.

The highlight of my time alone was the slumber party I had. To be honest, when I asked my four critique partners if they’d like to come spend the night, I thought they might think it was a little weird. After all, we’re grown women-we’re all supposed to be too old for sleepover parties…right? But before we knew it, emails were flying, deciding on what to bring for our potluck dinner, and how much work to bring.

FYI, the food was great. We didn’t get much work done.

But, oh, how we relaxed! We sat outside on my back porch and had iced tea and laughed about things we’d done over the years. We got caught up on all things- kids and husbands, regular jobs and hobbies. We switched to wine and looked at cooking catalogs. We talked about dreams and goals and things we wished we would have done and things we still hope to do.
Being with these friends is like nothing I’ve had since high school. There are no hidden agendas, only the ease that comes from sharing good writing, bad ideas, diets, medical procedures, you name it-for almost a decade.
At eleven the next morning, I was sad to have the house back to myself again.

I was ready for my family to come back. I felt recharged and rejuvenated and had reminded myself that there’s more to me than just someone who writes. I’d remembered why I love my kids-not just because I’m their mom, but because of their fun personalities and good natures.

Everyone came back safe and sound. Within minutes of entering the house, piles of laundry filled the basement. The phone started ringing, my husband started going through the pile of mail and turned on his computer. Two TVs clicked on, music blared, dogs barked-and that familiar call of "Mom" floated through the house.
Life had begun again.

So, that was my week. I got to have some time alone to really enjoy being me.
And time to remember why I’m so glad it’s not just me anymore.
Has anyone else had an opportunity for some alone time? Or felt the roar that only summer can bring-when the kids are home all day?