So Georges is away on business for 9 days, in Vietnam of all places. For an American, it just feels so strange to say "My husband is in Vietnam this week" as casually as I might say that he went to London or Rome -- which would actually be very cool, although he never has to go to those places on business because they aren't connected with la francophonie. Instead, his work has taken him to some rather unusual places since I've known him: Dakar, Armenia, Moldova, Haiti... and now Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City (formerly known as Saigon). Well, at least it's interesting and he's not stuck in an office all year long.
Fortunately, these trips only come up maybe twice a year. I don't mind the ones that take him to Montreal because we can piggy-back a trip to New Jersey when that happens, but otherwise I don't much like the time away from each other, since it's usually always for at least a week. Plus we were just apart for more than two weeks when I had to go back to New Jersey to take care of my mother.
When I found out he was going, I thought I could at least make the best of things by enjoying the solitude. La fille has been living in Lille for the past few months, at university, and her older brother just found his own studio apartment here in Paris. So I was figuring on having some quality Me Time plus some extra time to spend with my girlfriends. You know, I spent more than 4 decades as a single lady, and one of the things I liked about being single was that I could do what I pleased, when I pleased, without the need to consider anyone else's schedule or needs. Being single gives you a license to be selfish, and that's not necessarily a bad thing, not in this context.
Then, three years ago this week, that all changed very suddenly. It was like one minute I was single, and the next I was not only fully committed to another human being with all my heart and soul, but to his three kids also (and for a time, that psycho cat as well). Suddenly, I was part of a team instead of a solo act. And oh, did THAT take some getting used to. I had to learn to share not only the bed, but also a lot of other things (apparently, kids kind of just take what they want without asking, which is why I am perpetually in search of things like my tweezers, or running out of yummy snacks I bought for myself but that someone else got to first). Yes, I still have days, or at least parts of days, when my time is my own (it's called SCHOOL). And I revel in that alone time. But to a large degree, my time is no longer fully mine to do with as I please. That's not a complaint, just a statement of fact.
Case in point: Georges is away, but the Little Guy was here this week as he always is. And with Georges away, I got to be a single parent for a couple of days. Normally, this is no big deal, but wouldn't you know it: yesterday afternoon, I got a vicious migraine, one that completely ignored the special migraine medicine I took. And this all happened about 90 minutes before it was time to pick the Little Guy up from school. Just before I left the house, I was so sick I actually vomited. But I had no choice, I had to steel myself to walk down the hill, meet him at the school, and then take him to pick up his new eyeglass frames. By the time we got home, I was nearly blinded by pain and nausea, so I had to go and lie down quietly while he amused himself with the computer and TV. Then I had to get up, help him with his school and piano homework, and make him something decent to eat. Then keep him company until bed time. Luckily he's such an easy kid and he was very sweet when he learned I wasn't feeling well (he even felt my forehead to see if I had a fever!)
If I had been stricken by this nasty headache on a day when I was completely alone, I would have just curled up under the covers in a darkened room until it passed. But as a mom... well, you moms and dads out there know how it is. Even when you're sick, you can't really BE sick.
Now, I have other people in my life, and they rely on me to be there for them. While this isn't always convenient and sometimes I long for the days when I could just be selfish... it is also nice to be needed. And of course, loved.
Which is why, when I discovered that my older step-son, the 21-and-a-half-year-old who technically moved OUT of our apartment last Saturday? Was still planning to sleep in OUR apartment EVERY NIGHT THIS WEEK because he had no Internet at his place (at least, that's HIS excuse, but I can't help wondering if he is just nervous about sleeping alone in his new place)? I didn't exactly mind so much, because now I, too, don't like being completely alone, especially at night. So having one or both of the boys around in the evenings has been great. And although tonight, the Little Guy is at his mom's for the weekend, it turns out my step-daughter will be coming home for a couple of days. When I thought I would be alone nearly every night while Georges is away? Uh... not so much. That's life chez La Famille Bold Soul. Just a revolving door.
So whenever I am tempted to be frustrated by the fact that I am always picking up someone's little stray socks, or flushing the toilet behind both grown-up and small boys who don't seem to be able to remember to CHASSE! when I tell them to, or I am constantly running to the supermarket because they are eating us out of house and home... I try to remember that the alternative is being alone. All. The. Time.
Not alone? Is so much better.
