Craving More than Turkey on Thanksgiving

I made it a point to get out for a 4+-mile run on Thanksgiving before heading to my sister-in-law's house where there would be a high risk of gluttony, kids pouring out of every nook and cranny of the house and noise... constant noise.  Having spent the better part of my morning with people and a din that's become all too familiar in my house, I needed this run.  I'm surprised I exited the house for it as nonchalantly as I did.  A sprint accompanied by a "ARGHHHHHHH!" would have more appropriately represented my disposition just before it.

This isn't an uncommon feeling for me.  It's just one that's exacerbated by the holidays... you know, the time of year when you're virtually obligated to take time off of work to spend with your family, most notably your kids who are off of school for a solid two weeks (2+ if you count the weekends, which you should because it's just another four days to be with them constantly and to find something for them to do else suffer the consequences of whining and complaining about being "bored" and wanting to buy Pokémon cards and constantly keeping score about who had more screen time or who picked the last show to watch).  And this is what I still have ahead of me.  It took a couple of days off for Thanksgiving break for me to realize... and admit that there's a part of me that's officially not looking forward to the Christmas season.

I'm sure that some of this is explainable by my not having yet come completely down from a recent big project milestone where long hours were needed to get to it and continued long hours, albeit at lower levels, have been needed to recover from it.  I still need to work and solve work problems even when I'm entitled to have a break from it.  It makes me happy. 

At one point on Thanksgiving morning, I was sitting in the kitchen and holding an iPad, trying to figure out how to best configure it to keep the Leatherkids from stumbling upon completely inappropriate sites, which one had the day before, I don't even want to mention the site that it was.  All four of us were in a small space that felt like 4 square feet but was probably more like 16.  One Leatherkid was pestering me with, "when can I go on the iPad?  Huh, Mommy? When can I go on the iPad?"  Another was already hounding me about licking the cake batter from the mixing bowl, cake batter which didn't yet exist because we were waiting for the banana bread to finish baking.  Or, that's how I remember it -- she may have been rambling on and on... and on about random topics, only stopping to catch her breath.  And Daddy was peering over my shoulder, seeing what I was doing to enable the restrictions, not really knowing how to do it himself.  I wanted to push everyone aside and run out of the kitchen.  I didn't, but the urge was there and suppressed; and simply imagining it play out that way gave me some comfort.

Anymore, I crave space.  I crave alone time.  It doesn't even need to be silence.  It just needs to be me, alone, not talked to, not talking, not touched, doing my own thing, watching my own thing, being in my own silence, whatever I need at the moment.  This craving is oftentimes the reason I stay up late while everyone else is asleep in bed.  This craving is the reason I instituted my work-late night during the week, where I stay at work as people trickle out of the office at the end of their days just so I can be alone with my own thoughts... a few solid, uninterrupted hours of whatever it is I need or want to do.  This craving is reason I do  escape to my bedroom closet, unannounced, when I feel like I can't breathe and can't  suppress it.

I think I've always needed my me time but didn't know it because I always got it at a satisfying level.  I lived on my own for many years.  I worked.  I played team sports.  I went out with friends.  I was around people all the time but always went home where I would be alone.  While that lifestyle is gone, I am no different.  Sometimes I need to be alone... perhaps, I'm learning, even more than sometimes.

Being a working mom is not conducive to getting this time, though. Work and train time don't count as my getting alone time.  Putting long hours in at work actually feed that mommy guilt that inspires me to try to spend more quality time with the kids on the weekends... and on holidays.  Aside from my runs and bike rides, I can't always allow myself have my needed  alone time during the day -- my husband needs a break, and my kids need, sometimes crave, me.  I can't be alone and feel okay about it.

So I have some things to figure out.  What I've been doing of late seems to be managing my introverted, alone-time needs okay; but with Christmas and extended periods of together time looming, I won't survive with a smile unless I figure out how to make time for me to be alone while still satisfying the needs of my family with whom, it must go without saying, I do enjoy spending time.  This may involve darting out the door, unannounced, to catch my breath and be alone; but I'm sure I can come up with better ways to manage it.

The Wonder of Trader Joe's Park

There are very few things in the Leatherkids' lives that give them greater pleasure than "Trader Joe's Park" (which I just learned is actually named "Gartner Park").  Early this afternoon when we found ourselves recognizing the beautiful fall day that it is, we collectively concluded that we should be outside.  Having spent the better part of yesterday afternoon outside doing typical things (raking and cleaning up leaves, riding bikes up and down our neighborhood sidewalk, and... let's just call it wrestling), we needed something different.  Ella even asked, "Can we go somewhere FUN, Mommy?"

"How 'bout Trader Joe's Park?" I asked her.  I had barely finished the "k" in park when Ella was running to Cal and excitedly asking him, "Cal, do you want to go to Trader Joe's Park?!"  Of course, he did.

The entirety of Trader Joe's Park

Trader Joe's Park is nothing more than a neighborhood park near the Trader Joe's that we frequent. It's got a couple of playground play sets, one for bigger kids and one for smaller, that are mostly describable as things to climb but also with a handful of fairly simple slides.  It also has a couple of varieties of swings -- even babies can enjoy their time here. There's also a see-saw, not the kind I grew up with where the guy left on the see-saw was screwed when the other guy unexpectedly jumped off, but one that is forgiving of that and safe.  I just noticed the sand pit, and I'll take credit for the fact that my kids don't even notice it -- they've been discouraged from any time in the sand at these parks since before they could walk.  I hate those sand pits.  And around the park area is some attractive landscaping that includes a couple of trees suited for, yes, climbing.  It is pretty nice, but really doesn't have much more than what they get at the park in their own neighborhood.

Leatherkids on the see-saw

I love having this park in my back pocket.  It's my go-to... my slam dunk... my "money" move.  I swear, you'd think it's Disney World the way the Leatherkids react to even the possibility of spending one minute at this park.  I typically use it as an incentive for them to be cooperative and on their best behavior while shopping for groceries at Trader Joe's -- if they're good, they know they can go to Trader Joe's Park; if not, we'll drive right by it with a certain mention of what could have been, "There's the park, Leatherkids!  We could have had sooooooo much fun there.  Oh, well, maybe next time."

The last time I used this tactic it was a cloudy day.  The possibility of rain was high going in to Trader Joe's and a reality when we left it.  The Leatherkids had been on their best behavior that visit.  With one-track minds and an inability to apply any reason and common sense to a scenario such that the conclusion wouldn't be the desired one, they asked if they could still go to the park.  It wasn't pouring rain, but it wasn't drizzling, either.  Not one to renege on my commitments (some might argue otherwise) and not applying common sense or exhibiting signs of a backbone myself, I told them that we had made a deal and that they could go.  After all, rain is just water.  "You have 10 minutes, and I'm going to sit in the car and watch from there," I told them.  And off they went, only to return 8 minutes later, drenched and ready to go home.

Today's park time is also tied to a visit to Trader Joe's, this time after park time.  It being such a beautiful day here, I wanted the Leatherkids to have some long, quality time at the park without worrying that groceries in the car were thawing or going bad.  It's a risk for sure.  As I've been writing this, I've been visited three times by thirsty kids (I forgot to pack water) and twice by a teary-eyed, wronged and supposedly hurt kid (Ella, of course).  Other than that, it's been glorious so far with the Leatherkids darting from one play area to the next with no plan other than to have fun.  They've climbed, they've played "it", and they've see-sawed.  They've also almost run over a couple of smaller kids as they did so, not with malice but with a lack of recognition that anyone else exists.

Leatherkids throwing leaves

As I say that, I see the Leatherkids in a different part of the park, beyond the play area I described.  They're sitting beneath a yellow-leafed tree in a bed of leaves that have already fallen.  Cal is rolling around in them in his on world, and Ella is sitting with two other smaller girls in the sea of leaves surely telling them something. The three girls just stood up and are walking together, dragging their feet and kicking up leaves as they do.  They made their way to another tree with even more leaves beneath it.  Cal followed.  And now they're throwing leaves into the air and at each other.

Anything can and does happen at Trader Joe's Park.  I guess it is really is better than others.  I don't have high expectations for what's about to happen at Trader Joe's, though. Hopefully, I won't have a blog-worthy story to tell about it.