The Mom Strike continues. Sort of. Yesterday I spent over an hour on face time with my daughter Samantha as she struggled with a paper. Most of the time, I said nothing–she just needed me to be there. I continued to edit my book, as she wrote her essay for English on Romeo and Juliet. I couldn’t help but think of facetimes to come. She’s a first year high school student. There will be more essays to come, finals, college. When you are using face time however, there are no dishes to do and nothing to dust. Although I did spy a messy desk through the small monitor of the phone. I didn’t have to deal with it however, as it is THERE and L am HERE. I negotiated with my husband Chris to call a teacher that needed to be talked to NOW. He able to resolve the issue neatly and tidily. It’s a guy thing. Women tend to make things way more complicated. That isn’t a sexist comment. I am a Woman. This gives me the right to comment on at least some of my fairer sex. So despite the fact that I am over 100 hundred miles away, I still had to do some Mom work. I hope the strike captain doesn’t hear about this.
I awakened and immediately got to work. Didn’t go down to have breakfast even. By noon, I felt the need to climb out of my hole, and have some lunch. My brain cells are beginning to put themselves back together I think. By the time I finished my lunch, I stopped by the Front desk with a crazy idea. What if I stayed another night? I knew it couldn’t be that much–but I wanted something to sway me away from this fanciful idea. The lady said, “I think you have another comp night” “No, really?” I smiled in disbelief. Sure enough I did. Well, I took that as a sign the universe was on board with this extension of the strike. I booked it and then phoned home. My husband was delighted actually, and, my daughter, after a momentary panic of “I have to be with Dad one more day alone? said “whatever mom,if you feel you have to” which in teen lingo is pretty much the best you are going to get in terms of a thumbs up.
it is now day 3 and I had a fairly restful night. Save for the fire alarm that awakened us all at 3 am. Strangely, I didn’t panic. Although I did manage to prepare myself to get out. By the time, the sirens ended, I knew it was a true false alarm and just went to bed. I am on the first floor, so my “escape” would have been fairly simplistic. Even I don’t panic when I know I have an easy out. I try always to get a first floor in hotels because a) I have traveled so much that elevators have lost their thrill and b) waiting for an elevator is probably one of the worst time wasters I have yet to find. And yes, I do give a fleeting nod to the fact that if there were a fire I would be one of the first evacuees. However, I must have have stayed in hundreds if not thousands of hotels in my life….and last night was the first time I have ever had a fire alarm sound.
The best thing about my self imposed strike? That for a few days I don’t have to share. This sharing thing is quite overrated. I love my husband and daughter with every fiber of my being–I couldn’t imagine life without them. However, every fiber of my being is responding quite nicely to this life of handling the remote, dinner, whatever I want to do when I want to do. Before I came I wasn’t worried about being alone. I was worried that I would wallow in it, that I wouldn’t remember how to be alone (remember that I was married at 37, so I had almost 20 years of being alone). It was as if I didn’t trust myself. Well, as they, like riding a bicycle..it all comes flooding back. And I haven’t been lying or putting things off about my writing. I just needed space, physical, emotional, mental, to write. Get myself back on track by letting my train get off the tracks. The Conductor that is life will inevitably call my train back into service. Until then, I am happy to stay in the yard and retool, refuel and recharge.