Tim's parents have the kids for a few days so Tim and I are "on vacation" of sorts. We're still at home, Tim still goes to work everyday, I still have mounds of projects, but we are unencumbered by the demands of three children. For now. What have I been up to, you ask? As much I was I lured by dreams of daily soaks in the tub, lounging by the pool with a good book, and a trip or two to the mall to experience shopping without an overloaded stroller, I have been able to check none of the above off my list. Instead, I've been spending my mornings over at our rental house preparing it for the next tenants, my lunch hour eating out with Tim, and my afternoons sleeping away. I am, after all, still in my first trimester of pregnancy and can't muster the energy to keep plugging through the afternoon. And why should I? My girls aren't here to wake me up.
The vacay ends tomorrow, when we will meet up with the kiddos and, once again, assume full responsibility. I miss them. I don't miss sweeping my floor twice a day, breaking up fights, dragging them all to the pool when all I want to do is lay on the couch, and turning the TV volume way down and the closed captioning on when Tim and I want to watch a show after bedtime. But I miss the meaning and purpose with which they fill my life. Because trimming bushes and weeding just ain't cutting it.
2 comments:
I wish our current landlords had spend mornings at our house getting ready for us. We often comment that they aren't the Egberts! I mean they haven't even invited us over for Pirates Cove. I thought all landlords did that.
Roderic keeps complaining, "Are they gone forever?" He's going through some serious withdrawl.
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