When a Mother Breaks Childless Into the Streets

WALK O’CLOCK

What changes, and what stays the same?

A writer gets out of the house searching for a story that will change lives. A mother gets out of the house desperate for a break from the story of her life. But a writer mom?

Well, a writer mom gets out of the house handholding her life story, hoping to find inspiration on the way between home and playground.

These were the thoughts running through my mind as I ran away from home earlier today, with nothing but an old playlist and the earphones on.

It’s been a while since I got out of the house without my sweet 3yo appendix.

I actually think it only happened once this year when I got to write another story about it.

But today is a story in itself. A story of what’s it like to walk all by yourself without holding a tiny hand in yours.

No, seriously. Where are all the things?

No backpack, scooter, soccer ball, inflatable crocodile, half-a-tree branches picked up within the two meters of sidewalk we typically cover in 30 minutes?

And no purse?

OK, the purse could actually be my fault. I stopped wearing one ever since I started carrying a child. With so many things I needed to bring along for the baby, I always found room to throw my wallet and phone somewhere. Somewhere I couldn’t remember afterward.

The free hands start feeling a bit cold.

Wow, take it easy. Where’s my handbrake?

Without someone stopping me to analyze every crack in the asphalt, jump in every puddle, sniff every flower, count the legs of every spider, or get under every car to torment every hiding cat, I feel like I’ve crossed the legal speed limit.

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