A Room of My Own
My Chrismas gift from my thoughtful husband was an overnight at a nearby hotel. I left during Drake’s nap on Friday and returned 24 hours later. The short trip couldn’t completely reverse the upheaving effects of a tough week that was short on sleep, but it certainly helped, and was a lovely little interlude before jumping back into the fray.
I had a plan before I left, and it was to focus on things that are tough/impossible to do with Drake around. I took a lot of reading material, then picked out a movie to see and a closeby restaurant for dinner.
I saw In Good Company, a quiet little flick that was balm for my ruffled soul. It wasn’t high art, but it was charming, and smart in a subtle way. The ending didn’t feel surprising, but looking back on the movie, I thought it was easy to chart more predictable paths for it that would have left me at the end saying, “That’s stupid,” or “That’s obvious.” The movie adroitly sidestepped several trite possibilities and instead ended on a note that felt sweet and satisfying. I felt somewhat restored after the movie, as I did when I heard the uplifting notes of Peter Gabriel’s “Solsbury Hill” on its soundtrack.
At dinner, then breakfast the next morning, I was deliberate in my choices of what to eat and my pace in eating. I also did not read or do anything else but eat. It was truly a luxury to eat what I wanted and at my own speed, which is slow.
I revelled similarly in the luxury of having several hours in which to read. I brought a novel, a collection of short stories and essays, several comic books and a couple graphic novels. I felt like I had the literary equivalent of tapas. Continuing this multiplicitous reading has left me a bit at odds, as I wrote about yesterday, but for a short period of time it was quite heady.
I had hoped for a stupendous greeting from Drake upon my return, but it was not to be. He woke from his nap, as he often does, in good spirits but raring to get back on the ground and get moving. I’m not sure he even noticed that I’d been gone.
One thing marred the overnight. Even in a very quiet hotel, I had trouble sleeping. The last time I went away, I also was not able to sleep, so this time I’d taken the precaution of taking a sleeping pill. Alas, even on drugs, no dice. I think that the last 17 months of oft-interrupted sleep have permanently damaged my ability to sleep deeply. Even with restless sleep, though, I still returned home in better, calmer spirits.
January 25th, 2005 at 9:13 pm
You’re such an eloquent writer. I’m envious of the night alone and I think I’d have picked “In Good Company,” as well.
It does seem like once you have kids you don’t sleep as thoroughly. I have a 7-year-old and it’s almost as if part of my brain is always on alert for the cry in the night.
January 26th, 2005 at 10:25 am
sounds great!
January 28th, 2005 at 2:49 pm
See, Amanda, that’s the kind of thing I am becoming scarily aware of. I thought motherhood would get easier. And yet, SEVEN YEARS LATER you’re still not sleeping. I can’t believe I’m on the computer. I should be trying to nap. Perhaps day sleep is the answer.