Since the New Year began, I’ve started carving out more alone time; time for me to think, to feel, to write, to create, to study, to reflect. I can no longer count on a quiet hour while the kids nap–though that worked great for nearly two years.
Nowadays, my middle child is hit or miss on naps, and lately it’s been mostly misses, which means that hour of time I used to have is interrupted constantly by a three year old who is a magnet to danger (or so it seems from my perspective).
Because of this, I’ve given up counting on any alone time during naptime, because if I don’t get it I become frustrated and impatient. Instead, I’ve started going to a local coffee shop two mornings a week (the mornings the boys aren’t in preschool) and enjoying a couple hours to myself. I arrive right when the shop opens at 6:30 a.m. and am back home by 8:30 a.m. to relieve my husband so that he can start work for the day.
Some mornings I am tired; some nights I don’t get enough sleep; some days I lack inspiration. Some mornings I arrive at the coffee shop showered and bright-eyed; some mornings I come wearing a baseball hat to cover up dirty hair and can barely eek out a groggy “coffee please.”
But two mornings a week, regardless of how I feel walking into the coffee shop, I always leave recharged and filled–not just from the caffeine, but from the quiet time spent alone. Two mornings a week I know for certain I can study my Bible without any interruptions. Two mornings a week I can blog if I’m so inclined. Two mornings a week I can pursue entrepreneurial passions.
These quiet mornings are the antithesis of life in a home that is rarely quiet or still–a life filled with energetic, carefree children. It’s a life that I truly don’t deserve, but has been bestowed to me. And so I treasure these quiet mornings I get each week that allow me to not only take time for myself, but help me to recharge so that I can be a better wife and mom.