A Taste of Freedom

Yesterday, for the first time in three and a half years, I had a morning without my children hanging from my skirt.

Awesome doesn't even begin to describe it.

I dropped both kids off at their preschool. LittleBird was nonplussed, LittleMan was a wreck. It is hard to leave him when he is crying, but I know he stops after a few minutes and has a good time despite himself.

I felt I ought to be productive. There are groceries to be purchased, laundry to be done.

And I said fuck it.

I went to Ross to look for a lunch box for LittleMan, but mainly because I have been dying to go and was excited to just roam in their kitchen section without worrying about bodily harm to a toddler with the propensity to yank knives and serving platters off of shelves.

I found the lunch box.

I bought a cheese grater.

I bought a package of Pumpkin Spice coffee so I can make my own lattes at home and not give another dime to Starbucks.

I also bought a package of Coconut Cream coffee. It might be nasty, but I am intrigued.

The best part? We are still relatively new in town, and I can count on one hand how many people I know well enough to recognize in public. While at Ross, my closest friend here in DC walked right by me. Talk about fate.

So, until I am on the co-op schedule at the school, every Tuesday and Thursday morning are blissfully mine. I cannot afford to hit the stores every time I am free, but the fact that I can go out on my own gives me hope that I can regain a little of myself. I am not always Mom. Sometimes, I am just the chick wandering Ross with a creepy, self-satisfied grin on her face.