Earlier this week, while picking up a prescription, I squirmed a bit when Sara insisted that I should have some time to myself. I tried to kid her a little, saying that work served that purpose but she didn’t buy it.
I realize that Sara is right; it is important to take time for myself. But time to myself rarely happens around here. There is the occasional hour when YaYa is down the street at the neighbor’s house and BoBo is out with his friends. These days it seems that I can’t even go to the bathroom without someone (or some dog) hovering near the door.
My long runs used to satisfy the need to be alone. I’d get up early, leaving the boys sleeping at home, and put a few miles between myself and my everyday demands. It helped tremendously, and when I returned home the boys were watching TV or playing a game of football in the backyard.
It seemed, however, that those days had been stripped away sometime around Christmas. BoBo has become more irritable and inpatient while YaYa has taken on an intensified emotional fragility. YaYa also pushes BoBo’s buttons more than before, while BoBo picking on YaYa and name calling has increased. It makes for a very unhappy house. I haven’t felt comfortable leaving them alone together since the change…meaning my long runs are a thing of the past.
Just as my twisted ankle has put me on the sidelines for a short period of time (still yet to be determined), I hope that the increased moodiness of the Family F is also temporary. For now, I find my reprieve whenever I can get it. I’ll enjoy my time to relax, rather than dwelling on a need for complete time to myself. With that in mind, I can be satisfied (somewhat) with what I have. It is, after all, all that I’ve got.