This past Monday, Ray took Benjamin to my parents' to watch Penn State's bowl game. I was home alone for 5 hours. This was only the 4th time that I've been home alone since B was born, and previously the longest time was about an hour. It. was. wonderful. I was under strict orders to relax and I did. I took a long bath, then I finished my book, then I took a nap.
On Monday night, B and I had a lot of fun together. Often when we're playing I'm distracted, but that night I was completely into it, goofing around and really enjoying it. I mentioned this to Ray and he pointed out that we had switched places for the day. Most days, I am with Benjamin all day while Ray is at work, and I'm ready for a break while Ray is eager to spend time with his son. I sometimes feel that Ray is the "fun" parent, because the two of them seem to horse around and giggle more often. I now realize that it's easy to be fun for just an hour or two, and taking some time off does make me a better parent. When I miss him, I'm able to put my whole self into our time together. Day in and day out it's easy to get caught up in the all of the things that need to be done and forget to just enjoy it.
Does this revelation mean I'm going to stop feeling guilty about taking time to myself? Probably not, but at least now I know that I can be fun sometimes too.
Amen, sister.
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