Sunday, May 6, 2018

The Corner, or My Awesome Weekend

Jack is a doctor who works a ton of hours. He works 7 to 6. He works nights. He works weekends. He works all the fucking time.

Before I had kids, I missed him when he worked on weekends or at night. Those were the nights I'd eat Totino's frozen pizzas for dinner, because Jack thought that a Totino's frozen pizza was unacceptable for a meal. Whatev. Or, I'd go out to dinner with my friends. Or I'd read by book for book club. Or I'd go to book club. 

Then I had kids.

When Jack worked weekends and nights, my life became a fresh slice of hell, being home alone with a kid with no adult companionship for days on end. With no family in town, in new towns where I had no friends. They wouldn't do that to prisoners. It probably violate the Geneva convention or something. And people think doctors' wives have an easy, glamourous life. Some might. Not me.

When the kids were little, I'd take them out of the house so I could maintain my sanity, but like not really. Winters in Seattle are cold and gray, and you can get a little housebound if you stay inside the whole time. I remember when Claire-Adele was four and the Boy was one, we went to the Children's Museum at the Seattle Center where they could be busy and I could zone out. 

We'd go to lunch at the food court. I'd order the food, wait, sit down, spread out the fried cod and french fries and then get them all buckled in. One day, after I had all of the food spread out, Claire-Adele said "I have to go to the bathroom." I just got food. I paid $23 for my lunch and two kids meals and if they don't eat they will melt down and...

...she was gone. She had been to the Seattle Center food court enough she knew where the bathrooms are so she went by herself. Independent, smart, take care of herself kind of kid, right? I should be proud, right?

No, because it was January in Seattle and my preschooler went to the bathroom in the Seattle Center by herself. Who knows what kind of weirdos stay there in the winter? What if she got lost? What if she were abducted? What if her food got cold? I lost the Boy once at the Flight Museum when the Blue Angels were there. You'd think Jack would have gotten me a nanny based on how many times I almost lost my kids, but no. He trusted no one except me. Eventually, Claire-Adele came back from the bathroom, but not after my heart rate reached that of someone getting poked with a cattle prod.

Fast forward thirteen years. Jack worked this weekend. The Boy went skiing twice with friends. Claire-Adele worked.

I could do whatever I wanted. I met one friend on Saturday morning and we walked Ravenna Park. I met another in the afternoon and we walked Green Lake. I got my haircut. I went to Sephora and then I bought myself a new necklace so I won't feel so miserable next weekend when my family acts like they've never heard of Mother's Day. I went to a party. I had my writing group on Sunday. According to my phone, I walked thirteen miles this weekend.

I hear stories from my empty-nester friends who go to New York City for the weekend and catch three shows. Or they go camping. Or they eat dinner at 9:00. I'll miss Claire-Adele when she goes to college next year blah, blah, blah, but baby I have turned a corner. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it is awesome.

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