The last time.

[rivka]

curiousangel is picking me up in about an hour so that I can drive him to the airport. He's going to Chicago for the weekend. I've been thinking, "Hm, good for him to have the chance to get away before the baby is born and madness descends." But then, this morning, it occurred to me:

This will probably be my last weekend alone. For years and years.

Michael and I will probably go away together for kid-free weekends. I will probably stay home with the kid(s) while he goes on visits or business trips. He will probably stay home with the kid(s) while I go off to visit a friend or partner, or to a professional conference. We'll go on whole-family trips together. But I bet this is my last weekend to have the house to myself, nothing in particular planned, and - for the most part - no obligations to consider anyone else's schedule.

What a strange feeling.

Comments

[windsea.livejournal.com]

I bet this is my last weekend to have the house to myself, nothing in particular planned, and - for the most part - no obligations to consider anyone else's schedule.

It may be the last one that is routine and requires relatively little *advance* planning or negotiation. Don't assume, however, that it's the last you'll have with that lovely sense of **I get to invent my own life right now**.

In my case, for example, H -- or I -- have taken the kids to Winnipeg to his parents and brother/sister-in-law, and I have had a week or two weeks of blissful solitude at least every second summer.

My parents have had both kids at their place on Prince Edward Island, for a week every summer, since they've been out of diapers -- H and I have used the resulting time both jointly and separately, to rest and recharge.

But, yes, overall, things are about to change. For me, it was very much a question of how I framed it ... I could grieve for what was gone, or I could find what was fun to replace it. But sometimes, no matter how I tried to trick myself, the sense of loss prevailed ... and sometimes, I was blindsided by joy in the mundane activities of toddlerdom, that I would never have realized were fun before.