I spent the entire day in a quiet house, with my feet up, reading a good book. At one point I took a very slow, very quiet walk around the local park. I did not stop at the swings. I did not inquire about anyone else's need to use the restrooms.
I took a nap, all by myself. I probably watched crappy daytime television - a program of my own choosing - before drifting off. I woke up gradually, on my own time. Without anyone needing my immediate attention.
Joe returned, after a long day sitting for an exam, bearing a bucket of KFC. We devoured our junk food not at the family table amid stern statements such as "don't bang on that" but in front of the television watching The Aviator.
Three hours after the movie was done, Maya Elizabeth was born.
Most women love to tell their birth stories, or at least the stats (24 hours! Sorry mom), but rarely do we share those last moments before the chaos. I'm happy to look back on my last childless day and know that I spent it fully and completely relaxed, doing exactly what I wished as the mood struck.
It may not sound like much fun to you, (in fact, I know many who would complain about having nothing to do on such a day) but as I listen to Elliot's dramatic demands for a power cord to chew on and Maya's polite request to please eat my "chop stick" (meaning lip gloss), a quiet, unassuming day of freedom sounds like nirvana.
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