The Loner Boner (It’s a Thing)

As a mother, it’s hard to find alone time. That’s why that photo of those little itty bitty hands under the bathroom door resonated with so many of us.

hands under bathroom door photo

If you have dogs (especially two neurotic pugs like mine), you can’t even do a #2 on your own. Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I went to the bathroom without at least four beady, little eyes staring at me like I’m about to give the next “I Have A Dream” speech.

pugs

This is them. Interested. This is their interested look.

My husband is super great about letting me do girls nights whenever I want, so there’s no issue there. And I do so-o-o-o-o love a good girls night.

But there’s something to be said about solitude. Perhaps it’s because there are so few moments we parents experience this. This past weekend, I had the boys with me at church, which is an absolute shit show. They usually ask inappropriate questions (like whether the door in the nursery is Jesus’s closet), yell (“To infinity and beyond!”) at inappropriate times, and are just generally inappropriate (like my three-year-old, who picked his nose all the way down the aisle after Communion as I attempted to hit his hand away and he giggled). So when we met my husband (who doesn’t do church) at lunch and he offered to take the boys home so I could GO TO TARGET BY MYSELF, I nearly peed my pants. Like a freaking joyous, hell-yeah pee of the pants. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I felt that excited. I could only describe it one way that washed over me as I wandered aimlessly through the aisles at the BEST STORE EVER. It was…

A LONER BONER

Emma Stone gif

I had a huge list of things to get, so this was the perfect time for me to hit the store all by my lonesome. The dollar store section? Where my kids usually grab and touch and pick at everything? Don’t mind if I do! Endless aisles of warm, cozy PJs? Hell to the yes! Shit, I might even linger in the maternity section even though I’m not pregnant. Because you know what? I FUCKING CAN! Of course, I cursed the moment my coffee hit and I had to run to the bathroom even though I was at the farthest corner of the store — something that happens to both my boys. Every. Single. Time. We. Go. To. Target. Oh, the irony! But ya know what? I headed right back to that point in the store and picked up where I left off — reading the back of the Cheerios box like it was War and Peace. Because I could.

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