I've just had a wonderful few days by myself. I binge watched an entire season of Orange is the New Black, finished some bridesmaid dresses, had the laziest of lie ins and just generally mooched about happily at my own pace.
Little things like not having the TV on until the evening, not doing any tidying (and yet still having a tidy house)..it was all such a treat.
And I have a confession.
I didn't miss my crazies much at all.
I think I can say that without sounding like I'm completely devoid of emotion because of course I love them. And I knew they were coming home again.
And lately it's been tough. I meditate every day (no laughing at the back please) and although it's only for ten minutes, you would not believe how hard it is to carve out that time.
So when offered the chance to have three whole days to myself, bugger me if I was going to waste any of it on pining for my family who I knew were safe, well and quite happy without me too if truth be told.
I love my family. I am glad they're coming home. I am more grateful for everything I have than anyone else will ever realise. But I did not miss them because I am not just a mother and a wife. I am a person who also needs space and will occasionally rejoice in the thought that for a few days, the washing, the cleaning, the demands, the jumping on and lack of sleep, can fuck right off.
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