Adventures in Babysitting

Yesterday was a monumental day of epic proportions. I woke up, the anticipation palpable as if it were a national holiday, and then I darted into the shower to prep myself for THE GREATEST DAY EVER.

I got a babysitter.

I got the day OFF.

That was my first day without the kids in over six months. Last time I was without the kids was in the hospital when the twins were in the nursery and I was eating a chicken turnover hospital lunch whilst watching reruns of Gilmore Girls.

It's been a long time coming, let me tell you.

First thing in the morning, the Semi truck from RC Willey rolled down our private lane carrying my new beautiful dining set. Not only did I get a sitter, but I now have a gorgeous dining set to look at while being thrown up on in stereo.

Back to my babysitter. She is, well, a dream come true. I was worried about leaving twin babies and a four year old, but she had regularly sat for a family with TRIPLETS and two preschoolers. I hit the jackpot, folks! Plus, Alex is now in love with her. He even offered her my clothes and the option of moving in. What a guy.

So, I went to a restaurant and sat at a two-top, pulled out my full-metal jacket skullcandy to hook up to my iPod, and started a book. I read, I ate, I drank way too much soda. Then I went to a fabric store to stroll leisurely up and down the aisles, looking at prints and textures and colors and the moms who were there with their children. I watched this mom with three kids in tow who looked like she was at her wit's end. Do I normally look like that? Stressed to the point of going postal and leaving your kids in a "free puppies" box in front of Wal-Mart? I mused over this thought as I gave her a sympathetic look. No joke, she just glared back. I got the message.

The finale to my day off was a trip to the salon to get my hair did. Boy, did I ever get it did! Three colors of blonde, a shake-out-of-the-shower-and-still-look-good cut, and a scalp massage. Mmmmmm, that was nice. The last time I got my hair done professionally was, well, uh, honestly, I can't remember! I've been coloring and cutting my own hair after 11pm, as it's normally the only time I could do it. Anyhoo... As I was paying for my new look, I looked at my watch and realized it was time to go. With pangs of sadness, I had this feeling of darting out the door, getting in my car and running away to a hotel in Park City for the rest of the week. I was bitten by the solitude bug. That sweet, glorious elixir of being-without-the-kids was so deliciously sinful, I didn't want to go home! Within a second of that run-away thought, I was racked with guilt for wanting to leave my kids. What the hell? Was I insane? I love those poop machines. They are my life! Suck it up, and go home! I told myself with scornful shame.

Was I wrong to feel like that? The utter bliss of having no car seats to lug, bottles to pack, blow outs to clean up in some nasty public bathroom. It was too great a sensation for me to understand. I'm never alone. NEVER. And yet, with my man gone, I feel very alone most of the time. Lonely, a better word. I'm lonely, inspite of having the constant din of childhood buzzing in my ears all the friggin' time. I'd never trade this for all the gold of Persia, to clarify, but c'mon! Even the Mother of the Year (hoo boy, that ain't me) needs a freaking break from her perfect existence...

Alright, blogstalkers, weigh in. This day of micro-mixed emotions has left me in a quandry. Is it better to never have eaten the apple, to live in ignorant bliss of what I'm missing, or do I eat the damn apple of solitude at the cost of a sitter? My worry is that I will O.D. on sitters and start to go down the path of "what kids?" Where's the balance? Is there balance for those of us who are Moms? Ugh.

In the end, I am so totally utterly completely grateful for my day, my national close-the-banks-and-post-office holiday, the day off of 2008. Yup, I really hope there's more...