Alone Time

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What is it about being a wife and mother that makes “alone time” a guilty pleasure?  I spend my evenings and weekends in the sphere of the husband, who I adore.  I get next to nothing done.  I am all kinds of productive the moment he leaves the house.  I do not understand.

It’s not that the man bugs me or makes demands.  It’s just that when he is home, I live on the couch.  He doesn’t.  The man is ALWAYS busy.  Always working.  Always productive.

I don’t understand why I do this.

This year his Spring Break (and that of the offspring) was the week before mine.  One full week alone!  The Spring Break of Me!

I did yard work, cleaned the garage, lunched with friends, planted a lemon tree…all because I was alone.

Buckle up, Lemon Tree!

Buckle up, Lemon Tree!

I remember to blog when I am alone.  I enjoy it.

I feel guilty.  Like I must not love my family in the way I am supposed to.  I miss them.  If given the opportunity, I’d join them where they are.  I just seriously loved The Spring Break of Me, and hope I get to do it again sometime.