Day 15: Six Hours of Me (Sort Of)

A Different Kind of Start

7am start, not too bad. He’s in a good mood as always and happily comes skipping into the living room. I leave Summer for another hour or so while I make her lunch and get myself ready because today is… my time off. Kike is taking River to work. I take Summer to Day 3 of Art Camp and I’m alone.

Immediately, I feel weird, like I’ve forgotten something. I check my bag: phone, keys, medicines. Yep, all there. But something’s missing. I’m not used to not having the pushchair. I’m not used to not having River.

Then I realise I’m talking to myself. Out loud. Full sentences.

Ever since we realised River had delayed speech, we were told to narrate everything: every step, every activity. So that, over time, he might absorb it and echo the words back. So that’s what I do. All day. From the minute I wake him up, I’m narrating. Constantly.

But now? He’s not here. And I’m still talking. Just to myself.

I shake it off, put on my podcast, and start walking up to the shops.

The Reality of “Time Off”

This “time off” is actually for finishing the last-minute prep for our holiday. Yep, we’re taking this show abroad for a week. (More on that tomorrow.)

I go into Marks & Spencers. I’ve said before, it’s not just River who doesn’t like shopping. I absolutely loathe it too. I’ve had full-blown panic attacks inside Westfield and vowed never to return. But this is just our local M&S, manageable, right? I’m only after a couple of T-shirts.

I don’t like anything. Wrong season, wrong vibe. I try another shop. Same thing. I’m flustered. Over it. I head to Tesco instead and buy the toiletries and medicines we’ll need. Pop into a charity shop. Find River a third pair of Crocs (fingers crossed this one fits). And then…

I don’t know what to do with myself.

Lost in Free Time

It’s 10:30am. I have until 3:30pm to pick up Summer. What do I like?

I crave this free time, and now that it’s here, I don’t know what to do with it. I should try again with the clothes shopping, but it’s making me miserable. And there it is, that feeling I’ve had so many times since becoming a mother: I’ve lost parts of myself.

Everything I do revolves around other people’s happiness. I can’t even think of what would make me happy. A few friends message: “Enjoy your break!” “Some you time, how lovely!”

I stop. I sit down.
What is me time?

All I want is quiet. To be on my own. No cafe, no catch-ups, no tasks. Just stillness.

So I go home.

The kitchen is a mess, but I ignore it. I make a sandwich, lie on the sofa and watch my show. No Halloween today.

Remembering Who I Was

Before kids, I don’t think I was wildly interesting but I had interests. Pubs with friends (never clubs, too loud), comedy shows, theatre, cinema. But my biggest thing? Travelling.

I booked my first girls’ holiday at 16 and didn’t stop. Three months working in Greece at 18, seven months across Australia and New Zealand. I backpacked through most of Europe, spent Summer’s in China, Vietnam, Uganda, Costa Rica and six months in South America.

That’s where I met Kike, in Bolivia. Our first South American adventure. Today is our 9-year wedding anniversary, and I feel so lucky to have found him. There’s no one else I could’ve wanted to do this life with.

When we got engaged, I used to fly from London to Colombia every six weeks. I dreamed of showing him Europe, sneaky weekend getaways. But life had other plans. When Kike finally got his visa, we discovered I was pregnant with Summer.

We still travelled, Vienna with a 3 month old Summer but slowly, the trips stopped being ours. No more cocktail boats at sunset. With River, it was initially similar. He was quiet, content. But as his needs evolved, even leaving London became daunting.

Kike and Summer have made trips to Colombia without us. I stayed back with River. My world got smaller.

Glimpses of Me, Still

I’m grateful to the friends and family who’ve stepped in, even for a few hours, so I could dip my toe back into things I love, like my Eurovision concerts. Those moments remind me of who I was. That version of me is still there. Quieter. But there.

Six hours alone isn’t enough to find myself again, or to do all the things I used to love. But it was enough time to:

Buy toiletries
Book a physio appointment for Kike
Listen to a podcast with both earbuds in
Watch one episode of my own TV
Do a bit of admin
And yes… clean the kitchen

Small things. But they were mine.

The End of the Day

3:30pm rolls around and I collect Summer, pick up a steak for dinner, and head home. The boys are back. River seems to have had a good day. It’s a bit of a trek to get to Kike’s gym in East London but there are plenty of things there he enjoys just enough to ignore the fact that he shouldn’t be touching them.

Kike goes for a lie down. I make dinner, hang the washing out. Free time is officially over.

The evening is calm. River plays in the garden. The third pair of Crocs is a success! The others won’t go to waste. School have kindly said he can wear them instead of shoes, anything to stop his feet getting so cut up.

Later, I sit with Kike over dinner. We scroll through old photos of when we first met. A different time, in humid Colombian bars, smiling with our Long Island Ice Teas and no clue of what the next ten years would bring.

We didn’t know about visa applications, sleepless nights, COVID lockdowns, sensory overloads, or how much Year Long Halloween Entertainment there was.
But we also didn’t know about Summer’s spark. Or River’s joy. Or the quiet contentment that sneaks in after dinner, when the garden is still and the Crocs finally fit.