Getting all packed up
On Monday, Chris took the kids camping. Maybe that should read "camping." They stayed in a trailer in the wooded back yard of Grandmom and Pop-Pop's home in Atlanta. It was a nice trailer, with things like a bathroom, a stove, and bunk beds in it.
I think that Chris has taken John overnight only twice and that this was the first time he's ever taken Mary with him too. After they left in the afternoon, I wandered around shell shocked, with rapidly fluctuating feelings: wonderment at the silence, giddiness at the freedom of having to care for only one baby, confusion over which project to start first, and loneliness at not having my bunchkins with me.
Meanwhile, everyone made it safe to Atlanta. The kids had a pajama pizza party upon arrival.
On the subject of sleep, I woke up only for the baby's wakings (not waking at every other family member's stirring because I'm such a light sleeper) and--even though my body chirped awake at five o'clock--I got to lounge in bed like a lazy slug till 6:45! And when the baby and I came downstairs, there were no immediate demands on me. I could just sip coffee, read things, be quiet, putter, and do things in any order I felt like.
Some loneliness set in again. I had no one with whom to do Morning Basket time.
I didn't open the Advent calendar and hand out chocolates.
On the bright side, areas I cleaned up stayed neat. I didn't have to sweep after each meal, or even at the end of the day. Things I put down didn't get moved! I could work on projects and leave them out to revisit later.
I even left out pens!
Then I got a really wild idea and I spontaneously (spontaneously!) went to the health food store I visit only every few months. It was the baby's nap time, so she conked out in the Ergo on my back, allowing me to meander slowly up and down every aisle, studying products, reading labels, and taking my sweet time. I can't recall the last time I shopped at such leisure.
It was a little bittersweet when a small boy broke two glass jars of peanut butter right next to me. I glanced at his seriously stressed-out mother trying to herd her children, 5 and 3, around a mess of peanut butter and glass and go find a manager. I was relieved that he wasn't my child and I wasn't having to deal with it, but then I also missed having my little butterfinger children with me!
All day I worked on tasks around the house, being productive, enjoying myself--punctuated by calls to Chris because he wasn't sending me photos of the kids often enough or text messages telling me what fun stuff they were doing.
Does that look like camping to you folks? Nah, it doesn't to me either . . .
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