noun free indulgence in or enjoyment of comforts and pleasures in addition to those necessary for a reasonable standard of well-being; a pleasure out of the ordinary allowed to oneself.
Hallowe'en, only a week ago, may as well have been a month ago. The bird sihlouettes perched in my front window have lifted their wings. They're about to take flight, clearly embarrassed that they have overstayed their welcome. The 4 foot spider on the porch has begun to dismantle his 11 foot web (with help from the wind), all but begging me to pack him away as he shoots disapproving glances at the glittery BEWARE sign on the door.
My Hallowe'en decorations are so judgemental. But they're right. I am dragging my feet.
This first week in November nearly sparkles with all of the newness. A new month, a new season-the season of holidays- a shiny new niece who is the definition of Beautiful, a new writing project, a new president, a new era... And I am stuck in the past.
I left my camera with my brand new niece when I visited the week after she was born. I think I'm protesting the passage of time without it. Thankfully, I return to retrieve it next week.
In the meantime, I love having a blog that is My space. My virtual square footage to express myself in, to sit inside and brood, to neglect at will... Thanks for checking in here occassionally to see if my mind has dribbled anything .
Now, I will tell you of my greatest luxury. It occured to me last night, in the shower, where all of the greatest inspirations come from.
Last night, after dinner, The Producer had to return to work so the girls and I were on our own. Dishes were cleared from the table. My Darling L decided that she had a Dish-Washing-Itch that needed to be scratched by loading the dishwasher. And who am I to argue? So, a glass of wine was poured, Daily rations of Halloween candy dispensed, and The Coveted Corner of the couch reserved for one weary mother. Remote in hand, I was doing something I've never done before. I watched 30 Rock.
**You may be saying to yourself, "Oh yes, Emily, that is luxurious! Dishes done by someone other than you, a glass of wine, happy children, and half an hour to watch tv!" But wait, we have not reached the height of luxury just yet.**
Exactly 11 1/2 minutes into the show, my 2 year old scampered across the living room, nibbling her beloved Crunch bar to a nub. She curled up next to me in The Coveted Corner of the couch. I hardly noticed her little tiny body pressed next to mine. I was lost in Liz Lemon's Jury Selection Dilemnas, my feet tucked up under me, swirling my wine glass mindlessly...when suddenly, I had the sensation that I was sitting in a bathtub, fully clothed, as it filled up with warm water.
It took 27 seconds for my brain to register all that was going on.
"ARE YOU PEEING?!!!???!!!!!"
My two year old had scampered across the room to tell me that she needed to go potty but was so lost in savoring the crispy, chocolatieness at her fingertips forgot to let the words escape her mouth...and to control her bladder.
I sprung from the Warm, Wet Corner of the couch like a cork that had been held under water and lauched into crisis mode.
Mom needs a shower! ASAP.
"Girls, I need your help. The Babe needs a bath. The couch needs some attention. I need to get out of these WET SOCKS and jeans and SCRUB the HELL out of my backside."
So, while I was in the shower, it occured to me: THIS is luxury. This moment, where I am tending to my needs (read: scouring someone else's urine from my body before it has time to crystalize.) And not at the expense of the kitchen, the couch, or bathing The Babe.
What is your definition of luxury?