Tonight I'm without--without the children. I'm going to be attending a Beth Moore event tomorrow and the next day, so the kids have been "farmed out," as we have taken to calling it, two a piece to each set of grandparents. Grandparents, whom, I need to add, were kind enough not only to accept the care of the children for the weekend, but also to come and get them. Talk about above and beyond the call of duty! Everyone is gone now except for Darrin, who will be the chauffeur for tomorrow's event.
So, again I say, I'm without. Without any little person screaming at 2 am for no apparent reason. Without any little people getting into bed with me before daylight. Without anyone to fix breakfast for in the morning. Without any reason to negotiate clothing choices for the day. Without any dirty clothes to toss down the clothes chute. Without any refereeing of tv time. Without any juice spills to clean up or toothpaste remains to wipe down. Without the noise of stomping feet, or arguing, or clapping, or giggling, or whistling, or belly laughing, or singing. Without any faces grinning at me or hands reaching for mine. Without the sounds of lullabies drifting down the stairs. Without anyone saying, "Hey Mom, you've gotta see this!" Without any bedtime prayers to listen to. Without any sports updates before I even get out of bed. Without a coffee partner. Without soft cheeks to kiss good night, or rumpled heads to kiss good morning.
OK. . . . I realize I can't exist without them for very long so I'd better enjoy this time while it lasts. This wonderful, special, restorative time where I can enter the bathroom, draw a bubble bath, get into that bath, and linger --enjoying the peace and tranquility within and the peace and quiet without!