I’ve decided

In yesterday’s post I alluded to the new experience of living totally alone.  It’s a new thing for me.  I got married after  high school and had my sweet Alexie when I was nineteen.  Read about that adventure here.  When I was a single parent, my children lived with me.  Now that I’m single again, the youngest has gone off to college.

In the month since his absence, I’ve learned a few things.

I don’t pee on the toilet rim.  Ever.  Neither one of the bathrooms smell of urine.  Uncanny.  However, the house still gets dirty… all by itself.  I’m pretty sure it’s just the sediment of life filtering through the air with no help whatsoever from me.

I don’t drink milk.  Much.  A gallon lasted a month.  Not so fresh near the end.  Told you, Garret.  You ARE the one who always drank all the milk.

I don’t feel as lonely as I sometimes was being unhappily married.  That’s no surprise.  I figured.  Being alone now makes good sense.  Crazy gets pretty tiring and not-crazy is a lot less effort.  Besides, I’ve always enjoyed my alone time.  Now, I’ve got plenty of it when I want it.

Other firsts:

I have a television in my bedroom.  I hear this interferes with sexual intimacy.  Hmmm.  That works, since there’s none of that to worry about.  Though I would like to have a very good reason to worry about it.  You probably read all about that here and here and most amusingly here.  Still.  No worthy candidates proposing their undying love, presenting diamonds, and professing their unconditional devotion.

Dang.

Still, the television is great.  I’ve wasted some money on RedBox for the first time in a long time.

I blast the music whenever I feel like it.  I sing along again like I used to when it was just me and the kids.   Thank God I ended up in a house and not an apartment.  Seriously.  Thank you, God.  I’m singing along with Rascal Flatts right this second.  Not lying.  “Won’t let you gooo , no I won’t…”

(See, still on the Country station.)

I have an M&M candy dispenser on the wall of the kitchen thanks to dear wonderful Jody and Donny who made a fantastic housewarming gift of the thing.  Bravo!  Perfect choice!  For the first time, however, I get to take one hundred percent responsibility for the level of the dispenser.

Which brings me to the mono no aware moment of this post. (My former students should understand that literary term!  Let’s hope, at least.)

I’ve decided there are not enough children in my house.  I need one or two or three.  How about five.  Does five work for you?  Five might work for me.

I like little humans.  They’re so amusing, so wonder-full, so excruciatingly beautiful.  Even when they’re little shits (pardon my french, but sometimes they are shockingly naughty, hence the shocking expletive) they’re stinkin amazing.

I know I can get a Kinship partner and teach Sunday School and volunteer.  I can do foster care… seriously considering that, but what I’ve learned most acutely this month of living alone is how very much I MISS the fun of kids’ schedules and their growing bodies and minds, their need to be fed and guided and the sometimes painfully sweet, astonishing clarity of their thinking.  I miss the responsibility and the huge burden of being a permanent influence.

Most of all I miss the changing dance of loving them selflessly, then loving them with boundaries, then loving them while those boundaries get tested and finally, loving who they’ve become while you have the heart-expanding joy of looking at them and seeing every single age all at the same time.

Damn.  No wonder God loves us.  (I like being His kid.)

It’s great.  There is no substitute for parenting.

I’d still like to do more of it.  Hands-on.  Daily.  In my house.

I’ll take the pee on the toilet seat.  I’d still complain about the urine smell and the enormous volume of milk I’d have to buy.  I’d share the M&Ms and curb my music-blasting a tiny little bit.  I’d clean up REAL messes and organize more stuff than I want to.

Whats more, I’d love a good man to play with.   ( I’m just living, not actively LOOKING, but the thought of having a good marriage has occurred to me. of course.  For now, I’m good with the television.)

But the desire for more children hasn’t gone away.

I’ve decided I better choose pretty soon, since feeling sorry for myself is a stupid waste of time.  Either  1.  accept this stage of my life or  2.  figure out a way to parent some more.

I am considering what #2 actually entails.  Including the man to play with.  Also other logistical stuff.

It further occurs to me God loves me and I should probably ask Him for exactly what I want.  What a novel idea!

Just so you don’t think I’m a complete dork, I do realize living alone IS something of a luxury.  Especially if I marry and parent more children, this time might not be repeated til I’m a sad, old widow.  It probably won’t be nearly as much fun when I’m crunched over, wrinkled, and nearly dried up.

It occurs to me- not for the first time, but in the biggest way of my life thus far- it really IS the choices we make every single day that determine the life we will have.

That being said, I’ve also decided I better take advantage of my freedom.

Hey!  I think I’ll go watch a movie all alone in my bed!  While I still can.