Saturday, May 19, 2012

The Kid Free Weekend. Not the Party You Think it is.

This weekend is my weekend without the kids.  Most people think these weekends are full of fun and debauchery.  Not so.  They're lame, for lack of a better word.  Seriously, truly lame.  Here's how they go.

Friday evening I pack Jonny's bag and pace nervously around the house trying to keep the kids from A. Running off to play with their friends or B. getting sucked into something that will make them not get out of here as quickly as possible.  Ever since my ex snooped around my house, going through my stuff, the thought of him being AT my house, even with me here, sends me into a panic.  It's completely stupid, I know this but it doesn't stop me from being anxious about it.  That's why I pace. 

He texts me he's here and then I scramble trying to kiss the kids good-bye and get them out the door, quickly so he can just LEAVE already.  I avoid all windows and the door so he doesn't think I'm like... staring at him longingly or anything or that I have an uncontrollable need to see him.  Again, it's weird I know.

The kids leave, and I usually hop in my car and go get something really decadent and expensive to eat.  Something I would never get with the kids because they either don't like it, or I'd  have to take out a small loan just for the three of us to eat there.  Last night it was Penn Station. 

I bring my food into the living room (something I never do if the kids are here) and eat in front of the TV, catching up on all my shows from the last week on Hulu.  After I've watched everything, I turn it on a random season of Family Guy and snooze on the couch until I decide the bed is more comfortable.

The next morning, I get up around 9 and lay there wondering when I lost my ability to sleep in until 1 pm.  I think about making coffee.  I get up and pee.  I lay back down and start reading.  Around 11 I get up and make coffee and eat any leftovers from the night before.  I make a cup and bring it into the bedroom and read.  Around 1 I'm disgusted with myself because I've once again wasted another Saturday morning and I need to DO something.  I shower.  I lay around some more.  Around 3 I finally make it out the door with absolutely NO idea what I'm going to do, but I'm going to do something damn it.  I usually go to the library and pick up any books I have on hold there.  Poke around.  Call my mom and see if she wants to run some totally random errand.  She's bored, too so she says yes.  We go do errand.  Hang out for a bit.  Talk with dad. Head home.  Watch more tv or read.

Sunday, get up around 9 again.  Think, do I REALLY want to go to church this morning.  Think to myself "God understands" and lay there until 10.  Then I panic thinking God will punish all the kittens in the world if I don't go, so I get up and get ready.  I leave late and get there late. After church, I'll stop by mom's again.  Run any errands I need to do, and then I go home and cook something for dinner before I pick up the kids.

Doesn't that sound just so exciting?

Although I miss the kids the whole time, I do enjoy my alone time.  It's a time to rest and recharge.  I know I am a lucky to have an ex who takes them at all.  Not a lot of single moms get this kind of arrangement.  Today, I got to read a whole book in one sitting and it was awesome.

I keep telling myself that maybe I need to go out more, but I don't really WANT to.  I'm a home body and I am ok with that.  Dating is exhausting and as much as I would love to go out on the occasional date, I'm ok with not going out, too you know?

A friend and I were talking today and I haven't been on a date (or have had sex for that matter) in about 8 months.  I joked that I needed to get reaquainted with my slut side, but in reality, I won't because it's TOO MUCH WORK.  It really is.  Even to find someone worthy of having a sex only relationship takes a lot of time and energy.  Two things that I just don't have right now.

I'll just buy Fifty Shades of Gray and call it a night.







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