The sauna is hot and calming to my frazzled-mama-of-three-boys nerves. The pool was cold and the boys were busy when Nate-the-stud suggested I take a minute to warm up in the sauna.
Enter three twelve year-old girls.
Discussions about fatness on their tiny twigged pre-pubescent bodies make me laugh.
Parental trauma make me question what my kids will one day say about me.
And let's just say that the girl inside my stomach will not be allowed to date until she is thirty.... maybe forty.
"Are we... like bugging you?" The super, skinny, "fat" girl asked.
"No, not at all." My eyes opened as my head moved away from the nice warm wall it had been resting on.
"Its just that... you are all alone."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah... like a loner. I feel bad for you."
Apparently the definition of the word loner changes with age. Being one hundred percent responsible for 3.5 kiddos, thirty-six billion hours a day alters my definition of solitude. Activities such as bubble baths, hot showers, sleeping, and potty breaks are no longer enjoyed privately. Eyes and questions and conversations constantly bubble around me all the time.
"You're sweet," I said standing to leave, "but I need to go and find my family now." The sauna door slammed behind me as I walked away from my golden loner moment. One day their definition of loner will change too. Loner-ness will transform from bad to good and then we will sit in the sauna together. Completely relaxed in the hot, glorious loner moments that could never come often enough.
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