Luxury Items

When I became a mother, I was warned that I might suddenly disappear. For instance, I would have no time to myself, no time for random leisurely afternoons strolling through the park or sipping coffee at a book store with no particular agenda or schedule for the day. These are luxury items, and it was explained to me that I would have to fight to protect them, that being a mother would snatch them from my open arms and throw them to the wind.

I never lived in fear of this and I don’t now. While I still have well meaning individuals, mainly mothers, telling me that I better start hording opportunities for myself, I’ve discovered that I never knew luxury until now. Here is my list of luxury items/events, and these are just the ones that occurred this week:

My house is clean and I didn’t have to do it. My grandmother deep cleaned every nook and cranny.

My husband came shoe shopping with three girls because Wren gets a little excited in the shoe department, and I needed back up to keep her from snatching shoes. This is the 2nd or 3rd time he’s had to participate in this event in a week, and he does it joyfully.

My mom told me I was pretty when I had no makeup on, half dry hair and acne left over from the first trimester hormone surge.

Dennis cooked an amazing enchilada dish while I napped for two hours with Wren.

Wren is saying I love you. She hasn’t breastfed in two days, and though she’s still a little bitter, it’s getting easier every day. At least it is for her. I still want to cry pretty much every second.

My husband and I watched a movie together on the couch while cuddling. Since I’m usually in bed way earlier than him, this was sweet. It sort of felt like a date.

The baby started kicking.

A phone call to my sister made me feel better about my baby bump, or lack there of, at this point in the pregnancy, even though my doctors are not happy. I did this with Wren so I don't know why it's a huge surprise this time. I pop out during the third trimester.

Father's Day came around, and I have a great dad and a husband who is a great dad.

I have hot water. My mom and grandmother realized the pilot light was out on our water heater, and my mother-in-law drove to my house in rush hour traffic to light it because there was no way I was going near something that operates using gas with fire when I have no sense of smell and don’t really want to explode. By the way, Dennis and I had ignored the no hot water issue for two weeks because we didn’t know what was wrong and just assumed it would come back. This is either God making us content or we’re just idiots.

This may not look like much to some people, but it’s why I don’t need the coffee laced afternoons, pedicures, massages, hair appointments, me time moments everyone told me to collect when I became a parent. Nothing is wrong with any of those things, but my life is already pretty luxurious. And as I discovered driving home from dropping off my grandmother today, I don’t enjoy just me like I used to. I’m good being alone, but it’s not the same now. Instead of blaring the radio or daydreaming of some exotic location or the book I want to publish, I just wished to be with my husband and daughter and tried to stay below the speed limit though I was tempted to floor it just to get home. My life of luxury is defined by the people who make it so great, the ones who clean my house, make me enchiladas, light water heaters with fire, say I love you even when I can no longer give them milk. Too much time away from any of them would make me disappear or at least make me want to.