Overheard in the locker room at the YMCA this weekend.
Young girl: “Hey, Mommy, blah blah blah, jabber jabber babble…..”
Mom: “Will you just stop talking for 15 minutes?”
Young girl: “Blah blah blah………”
I wept inside for the Mom. Wept. I know you. I know your life. I know EXACTLY how you feel. You love your child to the depths of your soul. You would throw yourself in front of a bus for her. You would then lift the bus with your superhuman strength to make sure she wasn’t caught under it. You would saw off a limb if it meant saving your child from the horrors of some grave disease. But, you just want the endless chatter to cease sometimes. Just the simple pleasure of 15 minutes of quiet. 15 minutes to shore up and rest your brain and body for the next round of pummeling.
I am in the middle of a divorce, but my soon-to-be-ex and I have already started a custody routine/schedule. This past weekend was “my” weekend with the kids. A 3.5 year old and an 8-month old. And, it was a three-day weekend. (Thank you very much, Dr. King. NOT looking forward to Presidents’ Day.) At the end of the day, with only a wee 20 minutes until bedtime. The time otherwise known as the “sweet release.” The time when the chatter and hopping and grunting and drooling ends. I actually wished that I was getting a colonoscopy. Only because I could be alone. Just alone with a technician while jacked up on some “twilight” cocktail. No discipline to dole out, no chin to wipe, no mouth to feed, no fairy dresses to put away for the 17th time. Just me and the gurney. One with my flimsy paper gown. Just thinking about it gave me the fortitude to keep going.
Now that the dishes are done, the trash is out, our gear locked and loaded for tomorrow, I am ready for the sweet release of sleep and work. I have never enjoyed my job more.