So last year, though I never wrote about it here on the blog, I had a minor mental meltdown over the fact that I had literally nowhere in my house that was mine, for my own stuff. I became obsessed with having my own space. Someone hung their jacket on my hook? Dead meat. I couldn't rest until I purchased this apothecary table from Target to finally give me a teeny corner of my home to call my own. (Thank you, more talented design blogger with a cuter house, for a photo of what it looks like.)
And then I looked at my day. And I didn't have even one minute at home that I don't spend with my family. We wake up, we all get ready at the same time, my kids are with me both on my way to work and on my way home (since I work at their school). Then we're all at home together doing homework, sports, bedtime routine, etc., and then my husband and I hang out in the evenings and go to bed at the same time. There are so many things I'm grateful for in this scenario, don't get me wrong. I'm insanely grateful for my family. I love that my husband is able to be around so frequently. I love that I can work where my kids go to school, and I don't miss any of their important events. I'm glad my husband and I go to bed at the same time.
Buuuuuuut... not even one minute to myself that I could use to meditate? Of course I leave for Girls Nights and a good solo trip to Target now and then, but there was no consistent time each day that was me with my own time. It really started nagging at me. How can I even be me if I'm with my family every minute of every day?
Here's the part where I have a profound solution and a happy ending, but I don't. I never found that minute. One night I tried to meditate in my closet and before one minute was over, my husband came up and knocked on the door. "Uh, what are you doing in the closet?" Sigh. And it still bothers me that I don't have time to myself. So, no profound solution here. Just hoping, I guess, to commiserate.
