What would you do with a weekend at home alone? 

When this opportunity presented itself, I was thrilled. And also terrified of how I might squander this rare treasure

I felt the impulse to make plans - and yet I hesitated. The expectation to be anywhere at a certain time felt entirely too much. I felt the pull to be alone. And so somewhat guiltily, I told no one. 

After a sweet tearful goodbye and the car was safely out of sight, I sat down, stared at a blank piece of paper and wrote: 

This weekend - I will attune to my own needs. 

My. Own. Needs. 

Like many mothers, I have become superhuman at attuning to the needs of others. Sometimes I feel like I’m living 10 steps ahead. I intuitively know when a five-minute bedtime delay will absolutely be a disaster. I see the window of opportunity to prevent a sibling fight. I sense when the little one needs to run and the big one needs to be alone. I anticipate when everyone will be hungry and thirsty, need extra attention, a good cry or a firm no. 

But I wasn’t feeling superhuman - I was just feeling super spent. I was going through the motions but now every need I attuned to, every emotion I coregulated had started to feel like a 10-pound weight.

The needs of my family were wrapped around me like string, crisscrossing into a net, pulling tighter and tighter until I felt completely restrained and ready to burst. 

And so began my weekend of no plans.

Slowly I unravelled myself.

I ate when I was hungry.

Rested when I was tired.

I read for pleasure. Cleaned because it brought me joy in my space. I walked to the store without hurry. I bought flowers. I rediscovered the impulse to exercise and my taste for nutritious food.

I no longer felt drawn into scrolling and my phone stayed idly out of sight. I wasn’t raiding chocolate out of the easter baskets. I observed my thoughts and felt my feelings. From my office window, I watched a family helping their son move and cried over the tenderness of these milestones.

I spoke to no one. I weeded my flowerbed and inhaled rosemary, thyme, lemongrass and lavender. I enjoyed my own company.

And when my family came home that net had fallen away and I was breathing easier, my nervous system felt stretchy and soft. And as I attuned to their needs and welcomed their emotions, I didn’t feel that net wrapping around me, instead I felt a bridge - strong and connected.