Home Alone

It's Mother's Day and I'm home alone.

I suppose that sounds a little odd. But what I really wanted today was a little time to myself. My days - weekdays and weekends - tend to run together. The only difference is whether Penn is home or not. But whether he is or isn't, it's still all about naps, bottles, meals, laundry, and that darn kitchen that will just not stay shiny no matter how many times I clean it. So today Penn took Nicknack to spend the afternoon and have dinner with his family.

This morning, we three attended church. Or to be precise, Penn and I enjoyed the service while Nicknack had a blast at nursery. As usual, after Communion, I snuck out to fetch him. (We like to have him with us so we can worship together, as a family.) By the last song, "His Love Endures Forever," the congregation's toes were tapping and hands were clapping. Not too shabby for Presbyterians, right? Nicknack clapped his hands, too! I guess the Spirit really moved him! :) It brought tears to my eyes and delighted his Dad to no end.

Time alone sounded good but it felt so unnatural to watch them pull out of the driveway. Without me. After waving like a mad woman and blowing dozens of kisses, I spent an hour "organizing" photos of Nicknack.

Then Penn called to confirm their safe arrival and I could breathe again and get down to the business of goofing off.

Penn had pulled out all the stops. He brought home a take-and-bake pizza, a bottle of champagne, a few of my favorite snacks, and a People AND US magazine.

I don't generally indulge in trashy magazines unless I'm sick or waiting for the Dentist or Doctor. (They tend to have an unhealthy effect on my spirit.) Wow, a lot of "beautiful people" have had babies since the last time I got my teeth cleaned! Also, there were a number of young people I've never heard of up to all kinds of unwholesome things. I guess I'm out of the loop. But Lindsay Lohan was still out whooping it up and Nicole Ritchie was still troublingly thin. I wonder if those two know Jesus. I hope so.

Okay, I have a confession. Am I a terrible person? I'm struggling with a mild case of Schadenfreude over this Paris Hilton situation.

I finished my magazines and decided they really weren't as entertaining as I remembered. They used to make me want to starve myself to a size two. Finance a Range Rover. Open a credit card so I, too, could have a Berkin bag. Or at least get on a waitlist somewhere. I guess these magazines are no longer a temptation to me (PTL), which makes them kinda boring.

I should have read an Accounting chapter or started my Economics paper. There were several loads of laundry with my name on them. And, of course, there was the kitchen. There is always the kitchen. Sigh.

But I didn't do any of that. I did a lot of the same things I usually do, such as putting off schoolwork and chores and spending too much time on the internet. Only guilt-free. Because it's Mother's Day, after all. I watched Molly Shannon on SNL (DVR). I read a couple sections of the newspaper. Best of all, I talked to my mother for over an hour. She's getting over bronchitis, so we decided to postpone our Mother's Day festivities until she's up to it.

Pretty soon I'll hear the garage door open. I'll jump off the sofa and race to the door. My little guy will all buckled into his Cowmooflage Britax. He may or may not be excited to see me. Doesn't even matter. He'll be sucking his gigi, wearing those footy pjs with the dinosaurs, and ready for bed. It's past his bedtime, so he'll likely be cranky. And I. can't. wait! Because I had a day to myself. It wasn't all that much fun and I didn't get as much accomplished as I thought. Tomorrow we'll be back to the same old same old, and that sounds just about perfect.