Bug has turned two early. He hasn't technically reached his second birthday, but for all intents and purposes, he's already there. Being "two" has brought with it many grand ideas (like climbing on the stool to reach the light switch to reenact Saturday-Night-Fever-strobe-action in the kitchen). And being two has also brought many Bug frustrations, particularly if he is unable (due either to inability or parental intervention) to carry out said ideas.
And so Timeout has become a new visitor to our household. Just tonight, for example, Bug was visited by Timeout when he let fly his noodles at dinner. One of my friends used to say that their child was two and "very, very ridiculously good at it." Ditto.
As proud Mommy to this accomplished tot, I have discovered that I, too, need a timeout on a regular basis. Or, more accurately: time outside the house. I need time to reconnect with the still, small Me dwelling below the surface of Mom-me.
And so, on a fairly regular basis, I schlep a book and a journal to a retreat center near our home. Wooded, secluded, silent, sacred. Perfect.
Regardless of the place, I hope you have a sacred spot in the midst of our bustling world. A spot where you can be alone, be quiet, be still. Just be. A place where you, too, can take a timeout.