How much are you supposed to love 'em?

My family left me yesterday. Jeff took the kids to visit his family in New Hampshire. They've never left me before (although I have left them). Charlie promised vociferously and often that he wouldn't miss me at all. Ella said that I was her great mom and that she loved me and would miss me lots, but was too busy playing with her doll house to look up when she said it. Counting the hours before they left, I was in great turmoil.  Part of me couldn't wait for them all to go so I could try out solitude and freedom again. The other part of me wanted to cry because I missed them before they even walked out the door.

That has been one of the hardest things for me as a mother- to find that balance between loving my kids so much that I want to spend every minute with them and realizing that I need to have a life beyond them that is also satisfying to me. I still haven't found it yet. I know that there are things that I could do that would help, but they usually involve spending more time away from my kids. And like so many mothers, I truly believe that my children are suffering terribly every minute that they are forced to be away from me.

The thing is, I know in my brain that that is not true. My kids have told me that its not true. Last week I stopped by their day care to give them the option of going grocery shopping or staying at school while I shopped. Ella chose to stay at school. I was shocked, and thrilled, and devastated all at once. My little girl would rather stay and play with her friends at school than hang out with me at the grocery store. At 2 1/2 is she so old that friends are already better than Mom? If that is so, it really is great. My brain is happy that she has friends that she loves, and that school is a place that she wants to be, but my heart aches to be her number one choice always and forever.

When I got off of work yesterday and faced the prospect of an empty house, I chose to go swimming. Great choice. The water was cooling, I got a bit of exercise, and a chance to talk with a few friends. But the thing is, I have that choice every day of the week, and I never choose the pool. I could go straight from work to swim for 20 minutes and come out feeling refreshed, happy, and maybe with more muscle definition in my arms and shoulders, but instead I run to the day care to get my kids as fast as I can, and don't feel refreshed, happy, or have better shoulders or arms. Sometimes I am downright grumpy after a long day of work with no break between work and motherhood. Motherhood is hard. It is my hardest job. I know that I would be a better wife and mother if I just took that 20 minutes to be neither employee, wife nor mother. I need time as Liz, the woman. So why am I unable to take it?

Jeff is able to listen to his brain. He is much better than I am at taking time for himself. He swims almost every day. He goes off on the weekends for long bike rides or runs. He knows that it makes him happy, healthy, and more able to deal with the kids and me when he is around. How is it that he is free of the guilt that I feel?

Since I don't have the real answer to that question, but think it may be something related to the hormones that women produce when they give birth that makes them want to be mothers and spend time caring for their screaming, poopy, helpless offspring (did you know you actually have those hormones?), I will move on for now. Because the real question is why am I sitting here on the computer when I have real freedom for a few short days? I am off to get a pedicure, take a hike if 105 degrees isn't too hot, go to the air conditioned mall if it is, and browse the clothing racks for as long as I would like. But if you look closely, you'll notice that every now and then a look of true longing passes over my face because I just can't help but miss them.