Solitude

There's a scene in Date Night where the wife (Tina Fey) tells the husband about her ultimate fantasy:  "I'd just like to check into a hotel, order room service and sit in a nice, clean, quiet, air conditioned room and eat my food without anyone touching me!"

I laughed so hard at that one.  I so relate.  While I have enough imagination to get away from it all even while I'm up to my eyeballs in it, and enough organizational skills to take my own time here and there, I can still picture that nice, quiet hotel room, air conditioner humming, and know...I want to go there!

Scott was in Park City all week for a conference, staying at my parents' condo.  He texted me and said, "You should come up here all by yourself Saturday night and stay over.  The leaves are so pretty."  I texted back, "No way!  It's a Utah game that night.  You want to go!"  After some text-gotiations, Scott convinced me that he didn't have to go to the game, and I agreed to pack my bags.  Now, let me just clarify, in case you don't know me:  I love my life, and everything about it, with the possible exception of packing lunches.  Having just one or two kids would have turned me into an awful helicopter/stage mom.  I would have smothered them.  And if I didn't have the violin shop and teaching, my house would surely be overflowing with macrame or antiques or nutritious dinners or...more kids...whatever hobby I chose to channel my energy into.  Having six kids and a job and teaching and being 25% too busy all the time suits me perfectly.  Still, it was quite therapeutic all week to know, when I couldn't seem to get to my novel or when a shoe or a puppy invariably went missing, that soon I would have a huge block of empty time all to myself.  It made me smile calmly more than once.

On Saturday, I went about my teaching and violin repairs and soccer game, practicing, housekeeping, phone call returning and errands with a growing zen buzz in the back of my mind.  Finally, with the kids mostly shipped off to a Primary activity, I got in my car and zoomed up the canyon, leaving Big Tolly and Little Tolly waving in the driveway.  Did I tell you Little Tolly isn't even weaned yet?  Scott is a brave soul.

I roamed the outlets, picked up some food and went to the condo.  Scott had left a cute note and a display of treats with the puffy bathrobe and slippers I could relax in.  I immediately changed into my swimsuit for some poolside relaxation and plunged into the ice-cold water.  For a minute, I thought I was going to die alone, but my heart recovered and I sat in the hot tub taking in the beauty of the fall leaves and the big swaths of bare ground cut through the trees that will soon be the ski runs of Deer Valley.  I didn't have to tell anyone to stop splashing or convince anyone to stay at the pool for a few more minutes.  (It's fun!  We're relaxing!  Why don't you read?  Or get in?")  After my swim, my main goals were to consume more calories than Kobayashi at Coney Island and to read an entire book.  Check, and check.  A package of Oreos, a Mrs. Field's cookie, a spicy tuna roll, orange chicken and lo mein, and a nutty ice cream shake later, I tucked into page one of my book and never looked up.  Actually, I might have taken a break to send a few texts like this one:  "Is Tolly OK?  Is he breathing?  Can he reach any electrical outlets or sewing machine cords?  Is it dark in his room?  I can come home in the night!"  Just a few texts.  After I convinced my inner worrywart that everything was OK at home, I slept better than I have since May 21, 2006, (Hong Kong) and woke to the mountains flooded with light.

My soul is flooded with light, too, at the generosity and sportsmanship of my wonderful husband, the sweetness and preciousness of my children, and the extreme beauty of the world.  I'm so ready for the week, and so grateful that my life occasions me to need a break now and then, and so grateful for the chance to take one.  Thanks, Scott!