Alone (with peas and Sard).

These past 12 hours I’ve had so much alone time, I feel quite strange and everything feels unfamiliar. 

It has been wonderful! But also a bit weird. It’s really made me realise that before I had kids, I had So. Much. Time. 

But that’s always the way it is, isn’t it? You don’t appreciate something until it’s gone.

And then you have a new blessing in its place and all you can think is, “wow I’m so constantly busy” and “wow, I would love to use the bathroom alone,” and “wow, I can’t remember what silence sounds like.”

You lose yourself a little bit in motherhood. You find new parts of yourself too, of course. You grow and stretch and rise so much that it hurts. But you’re also so constantly on 24/7 that you barely have enough time to think you’re own thoughts.

Last night my daughter slept through the night! It was amazing! I feel so well rested today and I’m so thankful. I have no idea why or how or anything else and it probably won’t happen again for goodness knows how long, but last night it did. And this feat deserves its own paragraph.

Then this morning, my husband had a casual work get-together and wanted to take her along on a little date, and so here I am! Alone in the night and for some of the morning too. Everything is so quiet. I feel so quiet.

I took the dog for a walk and leaving the house felt so easy and straightforward. No pram, no “not these shoes, but these ones,” three times, no blanket, no snacks, no fiesty bundle in my arms going down the stairs. And then the walk itself! I could walk so quickly, up and down over the curbs and the bumps and I even had a hand free the whole time. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

We went to our local stream and the sound of the water running was so beautiful. The dog investigated the bushes and I could just be. No eyes having to be everywhere, no stopping the toddler swimming, no having to wrangle everything at once. We’re back home now and I’m just sitting here, the dishwasher humming, and I’m thinking that I need to add frozen peas and Sard to the grocery list. And this is all. It’s blissful.

I miss her, though. 

Not having her tiny hands clutching my legs with every step. Not having her babble fill the house. Not having her beckon me into her giant cardboard house. Not slicing apples and changing nappies and distracting tantrums and there are no frozen vegetables on the floor.

Again, everything is very quiet. It’s nice and strange and empty. And although it’s blissful right now, I don’t think I’d enjoy it if it was too often.

Soon, I’m going to get a whole lot busier and life is going to swell to get a whole lot fuller too. Then I’ll probably think back wishfully the more simple times of only having one small person to run around after.

And that will be “being in the thick of it”, more so than now, I guess, even though most days I wonder how I’ll manage when everything is thicker for the lack of a better word. It’s strange to think that in a few years, I won’t stay awake at night dreading the baby monitor going off and small hands won’t be terrified I’m leaving all the time and I’ll be able to be, just a little bit more.

Everything is temporary, but in the midst of it all it can feel like forever. One day things will be different and I’ll probably miss these days. Miss being so, utterly needed 24/7. One day I’ll feel more able to be a person again.