Seven Hours Alone–*Update*

May 25, 2010

I had seven whole hours alone this weekend. I know.

Actually, the circumstances were complicated and awkward and not nearly as awesome as you think, but I was, indeed, alone for seven hours.

My alone-time began shatteringly early for a Saturday morning: 5am. Oddly, I didn’t mind it though, because nobody was begging me for coffee or pancakes or a fried egg or Spongebob. All was pretty good, even at that hour.

I opened the paper, sipped my tea and then realized: I get to think about what I want for breakfast. I’ll be damned.

Now I don’t know about you, but even on weekends, my mornings are a freakshow. The kids need food NOW and they certainly don’t want the same thing, and the cat’s meowing for his milk, precariously underfoot, and I need to make the coffee and AIEEE! She’stouchingmemommymakeherquittouchingme…

You know. Like that.

Breakfast is usually someone’s leftovers, shoved quickly down the gullet, as I’m running to make sure Miss M. really did hit the potty this time. I always eat breakfast of some sort–I’m ravenous in the morning–but it isn’t really something I choose for myself, consciously. At this point in my life, breakfast=fuel. The quicker it gets into the belly, the better. No time to think.

But on this sunny Saturday, I got to choose.

Then I went for a long walk around a nearby lake, keeping company with geese and cows and large canines dragging dogged and harried owners. I walked fast. No need to stop to tie small shoelaces or take a dandelion-picking break or clap for spontaneous cartwheels.

Walk finished, I began the drive home and noticed that the Farmer’s Market was open again: a sure sign of impending summer. I detoured, wandered around, found some cute little heirloom tomatoes and bunches of sharp-smelling herbs.

Back home, I realized something. When you’re up at 5am, a mid-morning nosh is definitely necessary. Again, I was struck by the notion that I could actually put some thought into this. Eat exactly what I wanted to. This rarely happens.

As I’ve confessed before in this post, what I eat when I eat alone is usually shameful stuff. Leftovers, odds and ends, cereal. This food is not what I want to eat. It’s food eaten out of desperation or laziness–food I don’t have to think about, much less take the trouble to cook.

Oddly enough, I’d just thoroughly cleaned my refrigerator, so there wasn’t the usual drek sitting in there, begging my parsimonious self to put it out of its misery. Yet again, I was able to stop, consider. I chose some of those little heirlooms with some fresh, creamy cheese and sharp basil. A snack was never nicer.

By the time 1pm rolled around, Awesome Stepkid R. was on his way home, there were weeds in the garden calling, and I didn’t want to tarry, so I grabbed a heel of baguette, some herbed butter, and called it lunch.

The point of this story? I dunno. ???

I guess I was just struck at the notion that I no longer really feed myself. I cook, but with others in mind. I rush through my day and never stop to ask, “What do I want? What’s going to nourish me, at this very moment?”

And I don’t do that because…well, I can’t. There’s a family to consider. Just feeding myself seems rather selfish. But it made me wonder. What, at this moment, would you eat, if you could, just for you?

And p.s.: Lest you think I was virtuous all day, I will confess to my afternoon snack.

But you know what? Triscuits, lettuce, pepper jack cheese and mustard? Exactly what I wanted, trashy or no. Sometimes a girl just wants what she wants.

**Hi friends, a little more awkwardness and not-awesomeness going on here, so please forgive me if I don’t check in with you for a bit. Nobody’s diseased or dead, so don’t worry about that. I just have some figuring out to do. Thank you, dear readers. You mean the world.**

{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }

BigLittleWolf May 28, 2010 at 3:58 pm

"I no longer feed myself."

How much this says about what happens, gradually, with marriage and children. And how important it is for us to reclaim whatever it is that nourishes us, body and spirit.


Velva May 28, 2010 at 4:17 pm

Now, that I have one child out of the nest and another who is in puberty, I find that I have extra moments of alone time. I love it and really try to make these moments all about me-it's selfish perhaps, but necessary.

I hope all is well with you. We will be here when you return.


Kelly May 28, 2010 at 10:30 pm

Hope things are okay … catching up on blogs (rather than sleeping) and wondering if you ever eat triscuits with cream cheese and hot pepper jelly. And hoping you're okay. xoxox.


Linda Pressman May 29, 2010 at 12:57 am

I'm glad you fed yourself well, TKW. When I'm alone, same old boring shit: 2 dried up Boca burgers and one ounce of poisonous olestra-laden diet potato chips. Yum.

And, great use of the word "drek!"


The Empress May 30, 2010 at 12:35 pm

Ha! that would SO be my day alone…revolved around food…


Scary Mommy May 30, 2010 at 2:22 pm

I am the same exact way– it's life as a mother. :)

And, hope everything is ok!!


Alex@LateEnough May 31, 2010 at 5:57 pm

I love your seven hours alone. A walk. Food you want. Fabulous.

I'm also sending you thoughts & prayers (unless the latter offends you, then just swat them away). Hope all is well again soon.


Cheryl June 2, 2010 at 4:16 pm

Oh! I just saw the update! Hope all is well in TKW land..


Occupational Therapy June 18, 2010 at 5:11 am

I’ve recently started a blog, the information you provide on this site has helped me tremendously. Thank you for all of your time & work.


inannasstar June 19, 2010 at 3:49 am

Good for you girl for finding yourself again under all the mommyness. The key now is not to lose it. I started losing myself after my son was born but when he was almost 1 year old I realized that just wasn’t right for me. I wanted him to really know ME as a whole, not just his mother. Keep doing nice things for you and eating what you feel like……’cause if mama ain’t happy ain’t nobody happy.


Web 2.0 July 15, 2012 at 3:29 pm

Uqv81k This is one awesome article.Thanks Again. Want more.


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