Everyday, I venture out with at least one -- if not two, perhaps three, yes count them - four kids. For me, taking little ones out into the world is just not that scary.
Sure there are places I don’t go with my little lovelies in tow. You know the art galleries, fine antique shops, or even the shiny stores are just out of reach when you have a gang of sticky fingered octupi with you. What is crazier is when I am alone. I don’t even trust myself to go into those places.
On my own, I find my time is so less efficient than the time I spend dealing with four ankle biters. I takes me a while to remember who I am. Sometimes what my own name is is a difficulty in its’ own. I find myself humming along to the Wiggles just to remember that I LOVE DMB. I remember what it is like to stroll vs. jet out into traffic to chase a wee one.
Being a mom, having children is a true gift. I wouldn’t trade the sleepless nights, boogers on my shoulders, poop wiping, toy picking up, and the dramatic episodes.
But being alone, ahhhh, alone. It allows me to remember a little piece of me. The person I once was. It helps me recharge this battery called mom. And to be a better one in the end.