On Togetherness

This crazy, chaotic togetherness that, I'll admit, I do need a half hour break from every Sunday afternoon, is what I live for. And I'm sure it will evolve and get even better. But for now, it's important for me to remember to savor these long days for they will be gone all too soon.
This post was published on the now-closed HuffPost Contributor platform. Contributors control their own work and posted freely to our site. If you need to flag this entry as abusive, send us an email.

So this is how it went down.

After an action-packed morning filled with Halloween+dinosaur+train adventures (I, too, was surprised there was such a one-stop-shop, and somewhat annoyed I didn't know about it until now), our two precious boys took all of two minutes in their car seats before dozing off. The plan was for my husband to drop me off in the village so I could get a manicure, as he would continue driving until the boys woke up, and then we would all regroup at home for dinner. As we slowed to a near halt (because God forbid we actually stop the car which is apparently like a blaring megaphone to young sleeping children), I ever so quietly slither out for my half hour of bliss, not looking behind me as I leave.

I pick out my color ("Miss Fancy Pants," for those who are curious), sit down at my designated station, and look around as the nail technician behind the desk begins filing. I close my eyes (partially because I start to relax and partially because my 1 year old truly doesn't understand the gift that is the Daylight Savings extra hour). That is, until I hear a woman, probably in her 50s, enter the salon. Something told me to look up. And just like that, I saw my entire life flash before me.

I saw a woman going to get her nails done, which was probably her weekly routine, not because she needed a break, but because she wanted to fill her day. Her kids were all grown up and moved out. She wasn't looking for quiet -- she was escaping it. She once stood in my shoes, many years ago, up to her ears in diapers and toy trucks, and then before she knew it, her babies were no longer babies. And I literally teared up, overcome with emotion, and suddenly, desperately, longed to get home.

It happened almost instantly, but with the birth of these boys, my life became theirs. Everything we do is for them, about them, because of them.

I guess I take for granted the fact that I am so rarely alone. With either one or both boys, there is constant talking, singing, questioning, and laughing. Things that most people do by themselves, I have an audience. For 95% of my life I believed going to the bathroom was a solitary action. Not so. As I quickly attempt to finish my business, my older son hugs me while telling me I'm doing a great job and my younger son is literally climbing up the side of the toilet and somehow figures out how to put his hand on the seat. While I'm still sitting on it. Running to Duane Reade used to take 5 minutes tops as I would breeze in and out, yet it is now a 45 minute excursion, cart and all, even if we are just picking up tissues. And driving was once a peaceful quiet time, but instead it's now all Laurie Berkner Band all the time.

So often my husband and I have been told how quickly time goes by. That concept was always hard for me to grasp. As a kid, time was of no consequence. Which is probably how my boys feel now. As my older one tells me, "I had to wait sooooooo long before the alarm clock turned green." (Perhaps 10 minutes?) But, with this new parental perspective, I really understand what the old lady at the diner means. Because, while each day can seem like an eternity, the years slip by like quicksand.

I know one day these boys will not need me in the same capacity that they do now. I know (someday soon) it won't be acceptable for me to give them a million kisses an hour or pull them on my lap for a big bear hug. And "mommy" will soon turn to "mom" which makes my heart break a little.

This crazy, chaotic togetherness that, I'll admit, I do need a half hour break from every Sunday afternoon, is what I live for. And I'm sure it will evolve and get even better. But for now, it's important for me to remember to savor these long days for they will be gone all too soon.

Popular in the Community

Close

HuffPost Shopping’s Best Finds

MORE IN LIFE