"Don't you want to be with me?" she asked.

"My God, child! Of course!" I guiltily replied to her (in my head.)

("Always.")

("Forever.")

I thought to myself.

"Yes, of course," I begrudgingly (and actually) replied to her, with a shoulder shrug, scoff, and eye roll.

Because, without a doubt, I love her and enjoy her presence.

But, if we're honest here like we should be,

this global pandemic,

socially distancing,

quarantining world has me on 24/7

-- with legit barely a break --

and often,

I'm touched,

talked,

and "Mommmmmmmyyyyyyy"-ed the heck out.

So, when she asked me if I wanted to be with her

LIKE I HAD BEEN

ALL.
DAY.
LONG.

the answer of the ideal mommy in me, the one I strive to be, was "Yes!" but the one I am,

the one I was last night,

the one she wanted (and always wants) so badly,

just wanted a darn a minute (or sixty) to herself.

It sounds selfish, I know.

It feels selfish. Very.

That the same woman who

"gets to stay home,"

doesn't answer to a boss,

doesn't collect a paycheck,

and doesn't have project deadlines to meet

needs a break.

But I do, sometimes.

In the form of

silence,

little to no touch,

and spacing out for a bit,

without another thing be asked of me,

without a new task being assigned to me,

without all the questions,

without constant eyes on me.

As a parent and mother of three,

sometimes I just want to exist,

for even just a little bit, without

catching sight of a mess I need to clean,

being asked for something

being touched or pulled on,

or having to break up up squabble.

Sometimes I just want silence and peace, instead of noise and chaos.

But sharing all that makes me sound ungrateful, doesn't it?

The thing is, I'm not.

I am fully aware of what a blessing my life is.

I have healthy children.

I have my health, and so does my husband.

We have a beautiful home, and we are surrounded (though we haven't gotten to see them much lately) by people that love us.

But even people that "have it good" or "have it easy," they struggle to be and do everything they want in this life because life, even without a global pandemic, is tough on the day to day from the small nuances to more considerable challenges.

Here's the thing though...

When most of us that complain, vent, or honestly disclose more than you think we should, it's really our way of disposing of those genuine but less than positive feelings to make room for a deeper acceptance and appreciation for the everyday ordinary that both fulfills us and drives us crazy as hell.

"Don't you want to be with me?" she asked.

"Every day for the rest of my life, my girl, just give Mommy a few minutes, and I'll be right there," I should have responded, reminding her that while she is my all, Mommy also needs to care for herself.

But I didn't say that.

I walked my tired arse over to the oversized chair in her room, sat my biscuit down next to hers, and we played a game.

I may complain a lot, but I also come when I'm called a lot, so I think it balances out.