My parents live near DC and have been snowed in for days, which got me thinking about snow days – I used to love an unexpected day off with no responsibilities, just reading or watching movies or puttering around. In fact, before I had kids I used to think that was how being a stay at home mom would be. When Hannah was a wee baby, it was kind of like that. I used to feel vaguely guilty, like I was playing hooky.
Then I had another baby. And another. And now I am tempted to envy people who get snow days. Or weekends. Or days off. Or nights off. I’m not in that stage of life at the moment. It’s not a bitter envy – I’d miss my little people if I were gone from them (at least I think I would, I’ve never tried it!) but it’s more of a speculative envy, like “What would it be like to have a few days to relax by myself?”
I read a good article by Mary Ostyn on Owlhaven yesterday about how its bittersweet to have your babies grow up and I was reminded again how short this time with little ones really is. My kids will not always have tiny little adorable feet (baby feet = precious; adult feet = not so precious). They will not always take my word for everything. They will not always want to sit on my lap or do everything exactly like I do or need me to protect them from the ladybugs.
There will be plenty of years for having time to myself to do my own thing, but I think when that day comes I’ll miss my pint-size distractions. Meanwhile when I’m tempted to wish for a snow day I’ll remember to focus on the sweetness of a houseful of littles, rather than the chaos.