It was about 7:00 pm on a Thursday. Dishes were on the table, dishes were in the sink.
Kids were getting their showers done, finishing homework, reading.
I cleaned up, did all the dishes, washed down the table and counters, mopped…ha ha, who am I kidding, I hate mopping, I swiped a wet towel across the kitchen floor under the sink area and called it a day.
It had been a while since I had seen my husband. He had disappeared into the backyard somewhere. Not unusual. He often goes outside to make work phone calls, and evening time is not out of the ordinary.
Dishes done, house picked up, children clean, hanging out, ready for bed. It’s 8:30 now, and I’m folding a load of laundry. I asked my husband if he could bring in the next load for me.
After he did, I asked ‘Hey, where did you disappear to earlier after dinner?’ He said ‘I was throwing the ball to Mara for about 20 minutes.’
Amazingly, I wasn’t annoyed or anything. Just laughed. I thought ‘man…this guy…not bad.’
Then I thought, I need to disappear for 20 minutes and just go and throw the ball to Mara sometimes. Stupid that I never think to just disappear. I always seem to have something to do. Although, I think that if I disappeared for 20 minutes unannounced, all I would hear is this, real loud:
My husband gets away with his buddy at least once or twice a month to go fishing. Down time.
For some reason it takes an act of Congress for me to get away with my friends. We all mean well, and we talk about getting away. Hell, we practically dream of getting away for a weekend. We talk about where we want to go, what we want to eat, and the spa treatments we’d get. But too often, our grandiose dreams end up just being that.
There have been times in my mothering life, that I have gotten away. Vegas with my friends, drinking at the craps table at 11:00 am, so awesome! Spa treatments and excellent food along the coast. And hotel movie jammie days (the husbands just don’t get those ones, they think it’s a waste of getting away. Whatever, they are heavenly.)
Few and far between though. Way too few and far between.
For now though, if you can’t find me, I’ll be in the backyard throwing the ball to Mara. With earphones on though.