As I write, I have the house to myself (not counting the dog). My son and his dad went fishing with my son's grandfather, giving me three solid hours of free time; the most cherished currency in all of motherhood. Yes, you can bet I'm prepared to fully indulge in some of the favorite things moms do when they have the house all to themselves.
An empty house is kinda like a cup of coffee you can actually drink and enjoy before it turns cold and pretty damn gross: it’s rare and special and glorious, but if you try too hard to make it happen you’ll probably get nauseous. These kinds of unicorn situations simply can’t be forced. They happen when they happen, so the best thing to do is enjoy them while they last.
Any time my family returns from a trip away that leaves me to my own devices, I'm always very ready to see them again. A few hours of alone time at home, while glorious, can also feel a little weird. Like, I may or may not experience a few moments of existential crisis where I'm like, "Who am I, where am I, and what is the meaning of life?” OK, I also eat ice cream and read magazines, but still. Motherhood is nothing if not a series of extremes. Here’s a bit more on what those moments at home alone are like: