Before this week, the longest I had ever been away from Archer was two days. So I had no idea what to expect when I went away for five full days. I knew I would miss him but had no idea how much and in what way. Would I have fun? Would I be sad? Would our separation be too much to bear? Was five days too long?
I was shocked at how easy it was to say goodbye. To walk away from my son who smiled at me from the backseat of my mom's car. To wave from the curb and get on an airplane and fly away. It wasn't sad. Or hard. Not even a little bit.
I love my son with all of my heart. It's just that up until now I thought he was my world.
"Archer is my life," I so commonly hear myself say, but it isn't true. He isn't my "life". He is my son and there's a difference. I guess I didn't realize what it was until I went away for long enough to feel my wings like feathered stubs behind my shoulder blades. To clear my mind and live completely in the moment. Which is okay. It is. It has to be.
I guess I didn't realize how much I love to be alone, almost as much as I love to be with my son. Except for the past week I have been ashamed to admit this to myself... Or to any of my friends or some of the parents I met on the trip who were pining to be with their children.
"Do you miss Archer?"
"Yeah. but..."
But. But I'm having fun. But I want to be alone right now. And go out. And do crazy things. And be selfish and separate from everyone else. But. But. But.
I always thought a mother was supposed to make her child her life. Her whole world. Drop anything and everything to make her kids happy. But I don't know if I think so now. I don't know if I can live without weekend escapes. Without alone time. Without being on my own now and then. Because I think I would go insane otherwise. I think I would go stark raving mad without weeks like this.
Of course it helps that I left Archer with the two people I trust most of all, my parents. So not even for a second did I worry about his well-being... In fact, the opposite. When I came home from my trip Archer was beyond angelic. Well-behaved. Able to hold a spoon. An older, wiser boy.
So I felt guilty again... Because maybe he was better off without me...
I wouldn't trade parenthood in for anything. I will never love anyone
the way I love my son. And I loved the way he smiled at me when he came with my mom to pick me up from the airport.
I love being a mother. But I also love being on my own. I love that I can be independent. That I can pull away and live in the moment. Nothing to feel ashamed of. No reason to be guilty.
And yet... I do. I am. Guilty. Because it is frowned upon for a mother to enjoy her time out on the town. Because motherhood manufactures ideals and lines we aren't supposed to cross. Because our children are our everythings... Our lives.
Except the thing about it is, sometimes it feels good to be free.
***