oh, happy day.

miss N, enjoying her first-ever popsicle, in our attempt to get SOMETHING soothing on her throat

Natalie was feeling well enough to spend yesterday at daycare, although she is still a sick little monkey. Her fever is finally over, the runny nose has died down, and she has a bit more spark in those tired eyes. She's still coughing like crazy, and the antibiotic she's on for her ear infection(s) makes her stomach feel pretty rotten--she had diarrhea through her outfit and both pairs of back-up pants I sent her off to daycare with. Poor ragamuffin came home in childcare-issued pants, but I think she managed to have a fun day with her frands anyway. It was a music day, which all the pictures her teachers have shown me indicate that she loves. We also found out yesterday that she'll be officially transitioning into Room Two (the TODDLER ROOM) in just a couple of weeks, meaning that she's leaving behind the familiar teachers and surroundings of the baby room. I'm excited for her to be moving on to an even more stimulating and consistent routine, but sad for the confusion I know she's sure to feel. Plus I can't believe that my widdle babay is actually old enough to be heading off to a big kid classroom. Talk about a wake-up call.

But, despite that lengthy intro, this post isn't really about Natalie today. Nope, today it's about me. About a day of 8 full hours to myself. Those days are rare at this point in my life, and they are more precious to me than I can fully express. I suppose at this point I should do the requisite "Don't get me wrong, I love my husband and baby..." stuff, but I figure that all you guys know that already, so I won't waste my typing on those kind of guilt-induced assurances.

Instead, let me just say that I? Need alone time. Do you guys remember that SATC episode all about the secret-single-behavior? Yeah, that. That's what I need in my life to keep my sanity. I've always been the kind of person to fall hard into relationships, in danger of losing myself a bit because of that "I love you in the way that makes me want to spend all my time with you" stuff. Mike is the first person I've been with who has never, ever made me choose between my time alone and my time with him. Never made me feel guilty for craving silence and privacy and room to breathe. I don't know that I can be more grateful to him for anything than for the way he has always ensured that I have the space I need to be on my own.

I needed to be on my own yesterday, needed some distance from the desperate clinging of a sick baby and the everyday pressures of home and relationship and work. And, thank goodness, I had the luxury to make that day happen. A day off from work, a quick daycare switcheroo, a quiet house all to myself.

So, what did I do with my fully selfish 8 hours? Not nearly everything I would have liked to, but that's okay. I had time to run errands, drink a leisurely glass of wine, catch up on blogs, do laundry, scrub the hank out of about half my house, start some decorative crafty projects, half-watch two frivolous romantic comedies, and turn the music up loud for a solo dance party.

It was glorious. And at the end of it was so eager to get back to my sweet little germball that I practically sped through the salty fog that covered the roads to Natalie's daycare. I raced up that entrance ramp and can't even describe the heart-melting that occurred when I opened the door to her classroom and made eye contact with my girl. She was playing with a little toy telephone, and held it up with a smile as if to say, "It's for you!" and then came zipping along the floor on all fours to crawl up into my arms. It was, without a doubt, the best part of my day.

Because that's the thing about needs--sometimes when you get them met, you don't need them anymore.