(Disclaimer: This is a complete spoof of a recent blog on Babble.com. I wrote this because I like to write funny things. Do not encourage me)
Today's blog post was inspired by THIS. (click here)
It was inspired by women who take time for themselves to be a little self-giving.
You inspire me.
I don't have it in me.
But, if I did, it would look like this:
I was in Target for 40 minutes on a marathon grab-it- and- go shopping excursion. My husband and children were home in Pennsylvania. (the same location of said Target) They were at home not because they didn't want to be in Target.
No, they were home because I did not invite them. I didn't tell them I was leaving. Not even when they chased my mini van down the driveway demanding answers. I simply sped off, mouthing the words "I'll be right back" through the thick glass.
For so many reasons, I wanted to go to Target alone: to focus on 2-ply or 3 in the toilet paper aisle rather than the needs of my kids, to compare the ingredients of every name brand and see if they really stack up against that Up stuff, to sip my very own whipped cream- topped latte from the Starbucks window (ps: holiday red cups are back), to skip the toy aisle, to buy only the cheapest cereal for which I have an accompanying coupon with nary a complaint, or just to stand a little longer in the laundry detergent aisle to overhear a really good cell phone conversation. Even feign interest in laundry detergent when cell phone girl spies me, by thinking out loud, 'Hm. Really? 82 loads? hm."
Time away from family is healthy. A woman's soul is sparked by seclusion. Doing things that fuel your soul is good. That's not a direct quote, but I'm pretty sure someone on Oprah said that once. Taking loads of time away from one's family to find your inner voice is good. (Again, probably from Oprah) Except for husbands. Husbands do not need to do this, because well, they'd try to convince us that their inner voice can only be heard beneath the booming bass of a strip club.
These mini sabbaticals are for women only. A fact that was proven by the dozens of Starbucks- sipping ladies I passed in Target.
I felt no regeret that day, as I sped down our driveway. I thought the image of crying kids in my rear view mirror would prompt me to stop, but it really didnt. 'I'll miss them', I told myself, then rummaged through my purse for my shopping list.
'I bet you miss your family', whispered a young mom in the frozen food aisle. She was strategically placing ice cream and waffles between the legs of two feuding toddlers, while rocking a swaddled newborn.
'No, I'm good, thanks', I smiled...digging for a bag of peas.
'What does your husband think of you shopping without him?" asked a very nosy, young couple. They glared down their noses at me, arm in arm in the Christmas aisle. This one was easy. "We're both extremely independent people." I answered. They simultaneously unlocked arms and quickly walked away. "Plus, he knows that shopping makes me happy. When I'm happy, his life is so much easier." I shouted at them. A random mom behind the garland attempted a slow clap for me, which soon became awkward when no one else joined her.
That much I knew was true. My husband supported my need for alone time because I did the same for him ( as long as it didn't invlove strippers) I enjoy shopping. He shates shopping. He enjoys staying home with the kids to let me do that. He goes hunting and fishing without inviting me. I never ask. We remain happily married.
Two minutes before the end of my shopping excursion, I caved. I replied to the seven missed calls and called home. The cries and the wails were all I could hear. "We miss you . Come home. We love you." My husband took the phone. "Go back to shopping. They're just mad because I'm beating them all at poker and won't let them smoke more cigars."
See? I told myself "he's just as capable of raising our children as I am."
It was liberating.
10 minutes later, I pulled up in our driveway; greeted by all three kids and my husband, ready to carry in my bags.
When they asked me what I bought them, I didn't lie. I hadn't bought them anything. The truth was, I wished I had stayed another hour longer.
And I can't wait for my next trip (without them).