It has happened.
After almost 23 years of marriage and 22 years of motherhood . . . (don't you go counting now. . . Veggie was five weeks early . . .) I have arrived!
For I have created my own space.
That's right. In this four-bedroom, five-human, two-animal, five-alarm, and always-dysfunctional household of mine, I have reclaimed a place for myself.
And I ask you. . . why is it that - just because you fall in love and choose to marry another human being - you are expected to give up your privacy. . . your solitude. . . . your escape from the world. . . tossing your alone time and sleeping habits in with his??? Did any one of us hear the officiant ask a question like, Do you promise to sleep in the same cramped bed as this man regardless of either party's crazy insomniatic or snoring conditions????
For little did I know that G.I.D. (Goldilocks Insomiac Disorder) would rear its ugly head approximately one week out of each month and leave me literally itching for a fresh bed at 3:00 a.m. . . Nor did I know that - after years of being on-call for each daughter's homework/boyfriend/proma/wardrobe/best-friend/drama, I would yearn for the night when I could post an Off Duty! sign on my bedroom door. . .
And so tonight, my friends, I am blogging in my newly appointed study (although there's nothing studious about it . . . ) It is my retreat . . . my refuge . . . my sanctuary. . . my haven . . . my oasis . . . and I have taken Ponzi's lavender color scheme and added my own black and white. . . and candles. . . and orchids. . . and books. . . and music. . . and antique desk. . . and yoga blankets. . . and - oh - I can't forget my blogging boots. . . and - yes - I am feeling happy. . . and peaceful. . . and satisfied. . . and serene. . . and awfully zen-like. . .
I'm not sure I know what it means, but I sure am feeling it. . .