This is terrible to admit. I feel like dancing now that Phil’s gone for a week. I don’t mean it in a mean way. I love my man. But I also love my girl time, my time. No compromise. I feel the way I did when my parents used to vacation, leaving us with Vernell, our housekeeper. Vernell brought us crullers for breakfast during the week, and when we knew we had her all to ourselves, for an entire week while our parents were in paradise, Lea and I couldn’t quite sit still. With Vernell in charge, we were sure, that we were in charge. We got to eat chicken nuggets and ironed grilled cheese sandwiches, to watch movies on HBO, and stay up late. We loved when our parents left us… because we knew they would be back. It’s how I feel now.

I won’t ignore that Phil and I have fallen into a parent/child dynamic, one we’re both working on restructuring. But that’s how it feels right now. As if my parents are gone, and I can now finally do things the way I want. Without a discussion, without a drawn out talk, without hearing how it can be done differently.

I want to play the music loud and get down, dancing like a fool, with the tater tots. I want to take up the whole bed, “read” trash magazines, make thinspiration collages, and eat nothing but tofu! There will be salads for dinner, no meat. Homemade breakfasts, buttermilk pancakes for the wee ones. My to-do list will be whittled down. I will watch morning TV again, the way I used to in New York. I’ll dance with Ellen. I’ll ride the elliptical machine without headphones. We’ll have a movie night, and I’ll introduce the sprouts to The Lion King.

There will be more photos, more painting with watercolors, drawing. There will be no sports, not a single quick score. There will be period pieces, British accents, and if I had my way, truly, there’d be shelves on the walls of the office, complete with art work upon his return. And there will be no diapers! Abigail is going hard-core Dora panties. At home, at school. Rock on, woman.

I think I’m doing it again, though. I get these big plans, all revved up, then I spend the night watching QVC! Seriously. QVC. Who does that? I just spent the past hour or so watching Bobby Brown apply her mascara as an eyeliner. She just said, “Wear the cobalt blue eyeliner. It goes with your jeans.” That’s just weird. You know what’s not weird, enjoying your own space. It makes me giddy. And it makes me a more loving wife. Because I’m so happy, I want to do sweet things for him, to detail his car or something. In truth, I have no idea what makes Phil giddy. He’s just not a giddy guy. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying. But for now, I’m just enjoying being fully in charge, fully me. AND, I get to watch The Golden Girls. All night long.