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.
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