Last weekend The Man and I had a row about who “got to go” to the dump.
Seriously there was a flurry of appeals back and forth, each of us trying to argue the case for why they should have the honour of driving the car o’ shite down the road on a blazing hot day to a small landfill.
With the day we’d had – several toddler-related stand offs and a lot of tears (theirs and ours) – I had recast the small landfill in my mind as an oasis of solitude. It wasn’t a small landfill but a boutique landfill. And it was definitely “MY TURN TO GO”.
This is a sad state of affairs. Menial, formerly dreaded life tasks become mildly attractive when you’re dying for a break from the round-the-clock shouting and perennial stickiness of being a parent. The dump represented an escape however brief from the demands of the spawn.
The demands of the spawn are, of course, part of what I signed up for and I literally wouldn’t trade it for any amount of leisurely hours perusing the local dump. However, sometimes I long to peel the children off my person where they seem to dwell twenty-four seven like adorable, yoghurt-coated leeches and wade out into the ocean of me-time with nothing to do but stare at a wall, slack-mouthed overcome by tiredness. That’s the most ridiculous thing, I wouldn’t even be aiming to pack my hypothetical me-time with activity, but quite the opposite. So here’re 5 Ridiculous Things That Totally Count As Me-Time When You Become A Parent
Solo Supermarket Trip
It’s heaven. The Man is always suggesting he hit Aldi of a Saturday morning as if I don’t know what he’s up to. That child-free browse of the biscuit aisle is the stuff of Parental dreams.
A Trip To The Dentist/Doctor/NCT Centre
You know you’ve hit peak parenthood when you see the reminder for the routine cervical smear and think “me-time!!!!”
The Solo Shower
A solo shower is rare post-kids, like unicorn-rare. So should one occur, for God’s sake savour it.
Okay for many healthy types, exercise may have always represented ‘me-time’, but I spent many years hating the torture that is physical activity. However, since kids, I have taken refuge from my family in the gym. It really just shows what I’m willing to do to scrounge a bit of time alone with my thoughts.
That stretch of time between when you close the car door after putting them in the car seat and opening your own door to get in.
Yep, that peaceful little stroll around the car is like a mini parenting holiday so soak it up. I don’t rush it but amble around the long way back to the driver’s seat when their protests will burst back into Dolby surround sound upon opening the driver’s door.