I love my kids, do I even have to say that???  But I do love to be alone.  I love to dive into a project head first and not even stop to eat til it’s done, I love to daydream, garden and sweat.  I love to clean and read – uninterrupted.  But that does not really happen anymore.

Your life changes so  much when you become a mother.  For almost four years I have had a sidekick or two at my side and all the things I loved to do alone have now become a learning experience for my chickens.  
Allow me to remember Paris once again…I am like an old lady that tells the same stories over and over again, I know, but that time in Paris, that four weeks alone before motherhood was the greatest gift from my husband.  Walking those streets at any hour of the day I wanted to, stopping to take a photo whenever I felt like it, Ipod in ears I’d find myself, arms outstretched, worshiping God on an empty little street – alone.
One of my favorite parts was going for a walk at about 10 at night.  Joel and I would talk on the phone and then I would take off, usually choosing Sting for my earphones and I would walk down the river, to the beat…in my own world.  It was incredible.
That is one of the things I miss the most now that I am a mom, even here at home.  Getting out at night.  And not just the fact that we never get to go Tango dancing, or two stepping for that matter but just those walks around the neighborhood, late at night, just cause we felt like it.  Those were magical moments.
Now I find being outside at night and more specifically in town, to be a treasured.  It always feels to exhilarating.  I suppose it’s one of those simple things in life.  It always reminds me of my time in Paris.   It always makes me so grateful for it, even though it has been so long since those wonderful four weeks (5 years ago on March 1st!).
Last night I got that little sliver of wonderful.  Joel had taxes to do and I came up with the genius idea that I should get out of his hair (ha) and walk into town and go to the show.  I scrounged up some dollars from coat pockets here and there and walked down to the theatre.  Breathing the cold, crisp air and savoring all of the 6 minutes it takes to get to the movies.  I was giddy and smiling in my pony tail and unmade up face (truth be told I even left my BRA at home!!!).  I saw Confessions of a Shopaholic.  Me and three other people on a Wednesday night.  It was SO FUNNY!  I must have laughed out loud 7 times!  It was clean, cute and hilarious and unlike most romantic comedies it did not have that 3/4 of the way through lull where you are thinking, “Would someone just put this movie out of it’s misery??”   I really enjoyed it and would see it again in a heartbeat.  The storyline was totally “anti-debt” and “excess” but was a great escape into the world of Prada, Yves St. Laurent and the world of high fashion.  Way too much fun. 
 I came home refreshed and felt a little more connected to the me before motherhood.  It’s good to connect with her now and again and it’s amazing how something as simple as a walk in the dark and a movie about fashion can do that… but as far as my chickens, this morning they’re in the other room playing store and tearing across the floor with a shopping cart that was mine when I was little. 
Could I be happier?  Doubt it.