Fifty-Three Hours

I never thought it would happen. This morning, my husband took the little terror suspects to their grandparents' house on a three hour train ride. I actually dropped them off at the train station. I'm still wondering if I may been a little too eager with my departure. Fearful of the "you know, come to think of it, maybe we should just wait until Friday and go with you..." I blasted everyone with huge wet kisses (it distracted them, wiping away the mess, while I quickly retreated back to the driver's seat. And they say moms have no strategy...)


They were seven paces from the curb when then car vanished, like VANISHED. Though the lingering sounds of my singing "Miz Independent" -- grossly off-key -- are probably still banging off the marble walls of the train station. I'm anticipating a bill for the broken glass.


I got to plead the #1 man's defense: I. Have. To. Work. And, since I've pointed out earlier that my job is one of those work-when-you-can jobs, McLovin actually said, "well, I'll take the kids on the train, and you drive up after work, so we can all come home together."

What needs to be reiterated was that they left THIS MORNING. And I work on Friday. Moms, please, do THIS math. Not for a grade, not for a kid who has to do math.

Do it so you can see, on paper, what I'm seeing:
Husband and LTS leave on Wednesday morning, 11am.
Mom not expected to arrive until FRIDAY late afternoon/early evening.
Do you see what I see?

Fifty-three hours

Fifty-three hours of peeing by myself.
Fifty-three hours of not cutting up anyone's dinner.
Fifty-three hours of snore-free, taking-up-the-middle-of-the-bed sleep. (OK don't do the math here, mostly because I won't be sleeping away my time.)
FIFTY-THREE HOURS of bad, really bad, chick movies....with no one sighing at me.

I have the ENTIRE DVD collection of "North & South" from when Patrick Swayze was young, hair-in-a-mullet, and antebellum. Bring. It. On.

Even better...I have SINGLE friends...who live like this every day. And who write e-mails that say, "K -- miss you. Will be at Bistro B for cocktails. PLZ come join us if you can" and I think, "on what alternate universe can I join you." AHA AHA...THIS alternate universe.

I write back, "hey if you're still doing cocktails next Wed I'm def in..."

[crickets]

Hmmm, they all have Blackberrys. I wonder what's taking -- well, clearly they're on a flight. All. of. them?

And then I flashback to 10 years ago, when I sent the "join us" emails to people I knew would NEVER come...and reveled in my commitment-free life. Am I now part of the "let's ask Kate so she feels better but can't make it" crowd?

Suddenly, the house really does feel empty. No one needs me. Dad will be the Superhero all weekend; maybe on Friday I can be Robin...or Bat Girl...

The *ding* brings me back to my computer. "Are you serious?? You can escape??? For how long? We're dying to see you!! We found a new bar we just love, but you have to commute in, is that OK? How about 7:30? I'll get you deets. XOXO C. BTW, McLovin knows what he's taking on right???"

I'm back, baby, if only for a night.

As for McLovin, does he know what he's in for? I'm not sure. But he's doing it anyway. And this, girls, is the reason we love them.

Now, what the hell am I gonna wear? There are some serious shoes that have been neglected. Some fun new fruity -tini drinks that may have been discovered since I last did this...I don't care if it's a cold beer. It's a cold beer not in my house. It's a cold beer OUT.

And then, when I get home, things will look just like they did when I left, save the dog, but, really, he only moves around to escape the little terror suspects. He'd be quite happy in Afghanistan; seems there are some really good hiding places there.

Big quiet house...I'm driving the remote...I'm totally eating a box of girl scout cookies AND raiding the Halloween stash. I have never spent the night alone in my house. Not once.

I'm contemplating putting on a crown for the Inaugural Festivities, waving out the windows and surveying my lands. My kingdom. For the first time in a decade, my quest for silence has been fulfilled. Ahhhh...

Wow, it really is real quiet, isn't it?

I think I miss them already...