I am alone. Completely alone.
I can't believe it! The girls were happily united with their grandparents yesterday for an overnight visit and I somehow found a new sliver of happiness in this blanket of life. A break.
I drove the whole way home with one eye on the completely vacant interior of my car, a little skeptical of my reality bubble bursting and two giant butterfly laden car seats appearing complete with blond babbling children. But it's so quiet here. I can almost recall what I was like before I ever introduced a car seat to my life.
And now, I will channel my "Pre-Mommy-Self" (aka PMS) and meet my husband at home for an afternoon beer...and conversation...and a visit to the bathroom that doesn't involve an audience. And then, my PMS goes shopping, ALONE. I was so alone, I could think, and thinking reminded me that I still needed a gift for my husband's birthday. Not only was I shopping, I was productive!!!!!
When John and I reunited we headed into town to discover our dining destiny. I say destiny because we didn't make reservations anywhere for fear the commitment would be the thing to undo all this bliss. Who knew we were so superstitious? Because the parenting handbook warns that the minute you pick up the phone and reserve a table at a restaurant, your children will spike high fevers and all trace of grandparents !POOF! vanishes.
So we tried a new restaurant in Morro Bay, Giancarlo's. Let's just say that the locale and the giant green awning over the entrance do nothing for their image. But the bar and restaurant areas are warmly lit with loud upbeat Italian Opera music and boisterous conversations, the place was packed. I actually checked my cel phone before we got seated in case the babysitter called....oh wait! There is no babysitter!!! Let me take a minute to express my sincere gratitude for grandparents. And seeing as we are in yet ANOTHER babysitting conundrum at the moment, I must share my opinions on the unavoidable time clock of a date night when you know you still have to calculate the sitter's payment, tiptoe in the house and whisper your questions about how much they ate and what time they went to sleep, and then wring your hands all night in fear that your "relaxing evening" will be interrupted by a wakeful child. It's as if your only time out is the moment you pull away from the house, because after that, it's just sand in the hourglass before you're back "on duty". Back to my point...
And then the waiter was overbearing and interrupted us, a lot. And then the food was, well, just food. This was not a divine culinary experience, and the bill wasn't so easy to swallow either. Don't get me wrong, I made a point to enjoy as much of my evening out as possible. Until...ENTER the most obnoxiously flamboyant British cyclist in a black biking helmet who wanders aimlessly around the room striking up a conversation with everyone. He's so loud you can't hear yourself think and he's sing songing his high pitched ENDLESS chatter all around our table! "UM EXCUSE ME EVERYONE!" he blares directly over my head to the room full of shocked customers, (you could hear the turntable make that screeching noise before the silence fell), "BUT THIS WOMAN RIGHT HERE (and he does a pirouette over her head) WOULD LIKE THE ENTIRE RESTAURANT TO SING HER HAPPY BIRTHDAY! OKAY, ONE TWO THREE!" and then we all, including me because I was determined to have a good time tonight, sang happy birthday.
Needless to say, we did not linger at our table for coffee and dessert.
Closing the car doors and pulling away from the restaurant, John and I turned to each other and simultaneously announced, "Won't be going back there any time soon!"
And then we went home, slammed the front door for good measure (because we could), turned on all the lights in our house and proceeded to have loud verbal communication with each other for an hour! I know!!!
And now I am alone. Completely alone for one entire day and channeling PMS like nobody;s business!!! I have exactly 10 hours at home to do whatever I please. And right now, I'm sitting by the fireplace, writing to you, and drinking coffee in my pajamas. So far so good.
"Use your time wisely, young grasshopper," warned my husband as he drove away to work. Oh, I will. I will.
I am alone. Completely alone.