Today, not one single person on earth would have considered me for the Mother of the Year award.  It was the kind of day that started out with whining and rushing and irritation, and none of it even by me.  At breakfast, Martin told me that the toast I made for him (which was "toasted" and not "just like that" which was exactly as he'd requested) was so gross that it made him want to throw up.  Because the crusts were still intact.  Sophie went through no less than seven outfits, each one dirty after no time at all. 

If my girlfriends were here they would form a committee, create an award, and nominate me as the first recipient of the Tall Glass of Chardonnay award.  This award would be given to mothers who had a rough day, the kind of day where nothing really TERRIBLE happened, but you cried at least once anyway.  The kind of day where kids look for trouble at every turn, and the road that day is particularly curvy.

At one point today, I thought about how wonderful it would be if someone would just show up and say "Go out.  By yourself.  Run errands or just go to the bathroom by yourself.  You DESERVE it."

Then I thought, well that is so lame.  That has become my idea of relaxation?  That's just wrong.  So, then I thought, "Go out.  Do some shopping.  Find something nice for yourself."  But what?  If I had some time to run around and look for something, I wouldn't quite know where to start.  I'm too out of practice to just browse about and shop casually.  I need to shop FOR something, and I don't even know what I want.  So that wouldn't do.

I know, I thought.  I could rent a hotel room and just take a nap.  A long, fat nap where no one wanted to share my pillow or hog up the whole bed so that I had to sleep all cramped up and twisty like the Rip van Winkle of contortionists.  Sure, that would be nice, but it would be so temporary.  And I'd probably feel like it was wasteful, just napping when I had that time to myself.

Think.  When was the last time that I felt really relaxed.  Not just content lounging about or lazy, but truly relaxed.  Not rushed.  Not needed.  Not wasting time that really should be more productive.  But actually relaxed in a way that the act itself WAS productive.  It was ABOUT relaxing.  I came up with two times that are remarkably similar:

Ruttger's, September 1993
There was a gap between when most of the staff left for the summer and when I started back at school at the U of M.  For three weeks, there were only a few of the summer staff remaining, families no longer the primary guests, conference attendees taking their place.  The activities for the summer were over, but there were plenty of shifts to work in the dining room.  The gap between lunch and dinner was a few hours, perfect for resting and reading.  I remember spending long afternoons reading, drinking from a pot of coffee borrowed from the kitchen.  This was the summer when Sevda and I became friends.  She had introduced me to A Prayer for Owen Meany over which we became friends.  After that, we spent the year moving through Alice Walker, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Isabel Allende and listened to Tracy Chapman on repeat.  It was fantastic.

Long Lake, Summer c.1984
I wish I could remember how old I was exactly when I spent the summer reading and rereading the Time Trilogy by Madeleine L'Engle.  It was not long after we started spending summers at the lake, and I remember spending hours sitting on the pontoon boat, safely docked on the boat lift, reading the three books over and over again.  Soft summer breeze, shade for part of the day, full sun for the rest.  Nothing to do but read and occasionally haul weeds when my dad noticed I'd been sitting out there all day.  So totally relaxing.

That's what I want.  I want to sit back and read without interruption, or the nagging guilt of projects unfinished, laundry waiting to be folded, food that needs to be made, people pulling at my legs or stealing my bookmark.  Even though all of that seems pretty far away, I know that my time for that kind of relaxation will come again.  If my mom is any indication of when that will happen, it will occur the day after the last child moves away from home and will continue indefinitely.  Like I've said many times, when facing trouble or difficulty, just think about WWJD (What Would Jane Do).