Over the past few days, I’ve had several blocks of time when I was all alone. Just me by my lonesome. And I loved it, every single millisecond! It tempts  me to issue a request of the universe and ask for one week; one week when my son is somewhere safe where he can have as much fun as his 6 year old self can handle; a week where I am totally alone: no 5:30 am wake-ups by bright brown eyes which look confused when I say it’s too early to go outside. Oh a week of not having to explain daily that during summer, Ra wakes up early and goes to bed late. A week of not having to plot and plan out meals. A week of watching stubby lil fingers zero in on the meat/chicken/fish to the exclusion of everything else. A week of not having to say eat your food or explain why it’s important to eat fruits and vegetables over and over again. A week where I wonder what on earth I was doing being a mother; let alone to this child who can manifest my best and worst qualities (mule headedness, intelligence, compassion, selfishness) in the space of one hour. A week where I learn to love the sound of my voice again.

So. Yes. So consider this my request, Universe. One week; a week, I want to specify, where my son is with someone who has his best interests at heart and who understand this parent’s need to not here daily reports. A person who will just send me pictures and not call me in a panic because mule headedness won out over other emotions.