One thing I've had to become more intentional about this past year has been escape. On a micro level, that looks like early mornings and noise cancelling earbuds; a few hours a day to experience felt solitude and think some entire uninterrupted thoughts. It helps me be more present for the rest of the day, and staves off the late afternoon stress-induced synesthesia that turns sounds into bursts of light and that light into blinding headaches.
While I naturally function best with freedom within structure, this has been a bit more restriction than I'd prefer. Last summer we managed to get our go out with movie drives - the gift of a van with a DVD player kept the kids occupied and separated, and I'd get drive through coffee and head to an honor system farmstead 45 minutes away for flowers ("hyacinths to feed the soul" and all that). Cartoon binges for them have given me the headspace (and physical space) to plan more productive activities - we've been trying to send letters and drawings whenever the kids mention missing someone, and I'm determined that we shall reenter society with two of the three functionally literate.
I've been going on evening walks whenever possible, and expanded my definition of "nice weather" to allow for more walks. Aimless loops through the neighborhood, maybe stopping on a bridge to stare at the creek below, or maybe using the upper body workout machines the city installed at a nearby park. Adam takes the Bigs scootering around the neighborhood or to an unused basketball court to drive RC cars or fly styrofoam planes on his days off. As the designated family errand runner, I've also gotten used to going out solo. If there's no reason for them to need to be there (recent exceptions were choosing fabric and picking out spring clothes), then they shouldn't be. It has shifted when I do things like getting groceries, but I think we've all benefited from the new system.
Date nights were already too few but interestingly the quality has improved. Based on the level of planning involved, and efforts to minimize breathing on and being breathed on by others, we've managed to have a few overnight dates, which wasn't happening before. It was initially sparked by a solitary overnight outing I took last summer in an attempt to persuade the toddler that his own bed was just as nice as mine, and no really Mommy didn't need to be a food source anymore (it worked). Then we realized that with digital check in, it's entirely possible to stay in a hotel without ever seeing anyone else, and provides a nicer way to eat take out than sitting in the car (we want to support local restaurants, but the food service workers don't deserve to be breathed on in order to keep their jobs). One time we found an off time to go to an axe throwing place and had it to ourselves (I still miss movie theaters, though).
There are still moments - and days - when I want to run away, to be alone with my own thoughts, or lost in a crowd. But we're finding relief in our small spaces, together - and it's going to be alright.
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