BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN

This past weekend, Chris and I went away with friends to Indianapolis. It was great to have some time with just the "grown-ups." It was great to take a trip where I was able to:

- sleep in

- not have to visit a children's museum

- only have to cut up my own meat at the table

- only visit the restroom when I needed to go

- have a conversation with adults without being interrupted every 30 seconds

- try on clothes in a dressing room without two other people being present who are making crazy faces in the mirror and fighting to sit on the little seat with each other

- visit a local artisan's fair without having to worry about my little whirling dervish taking out half the display

Of course, I was very happy to be back with my kiddos last night, and I could tell that even though they very much enjoyed their weekend at Grandma & Papa's house, they too were very happy to be back home with us. We collected them right after supper last night, and they were pretty tired. After baths and books, they were more than ready for bed.

Whatever lingering separation I felt from shifting from "grownup" to "mommy" came to a screeching halt this morning. I went into both of the kids' rooms to wake them up and get them stirring. Maggie made it up and to the toilet first, leaving Aleita bouncing around the bathroom, holding her bottom, telling her to "hurry up and get off the potty before the pee comes out!" I left them to it and went downstairs to make myself a cup of hot tea. Within two minutes, Aleita had joined me in kitchen, saying to me, "Guess what I'm missing!"

"Your tooth?" I asked.

"Nope." she replied with a grin.

"A holder from one of your braids?"

Again, she answered, "No!" with a silly smile on her face.

"I give up," I said to her.

With that, she lifted up her nightgown over her head and yelled, "UNDERPANTS!!" and then laughed like a fiend.

"Maggie took too long on the potty," she began to explain as she lowered her nightgown back down so I could again see her face.

With a sigh (anticipating cleaning up a mess) I asked, "Did you pee your pants?"

"No!" she said indignantly. "I just dribbled a little bit."

With that, she headed back up the stairs, all the while singing into her new light-up Hannah Montana sing-a-long microphone that she brought home from her grandparent's house this weekend.

Ah yes - - definitely back in the mommy role.

IT'S A HARD JOB, BUT SOMEBODY HAS TO DO IT

My job requires that I travel from time to time. Some people really hate to travel - - I don't mind it so much. I am never usually gone for more than two or three days at a stretch, and even then, it is only every few months. Some people will actually ask me, "who takes care of the kids while you're gone?" as if a father is completely incapable of running the household in my absence. Contrary to popular belief from 1956, Chris is more than able to carry on with life when I am gone for a few days (he does, however, insist that the kids' hair be braided before I leave so that all he has to do is oil it in the morning. I came home once after Aleita had swimming lessons and he actually did have to wash it. He had sent that child to school with a big ol' head full of some nappy hair....practically a Don King afro....she was not happy.) At any rate, other than hair-doin', is a very good dad and more than capable of feeding, bathing, clothing, homework-helping, and general kid-takin'-care-of when I am gone. I never worry about them because I know I am leaving them in very capable hands. Plus - it gives the girls a little bonding time with dear old dad.

Sure, I miss them - and Chris too - - when I travel. Do you feel a big BUT coming on? Look out . . here it comes!!! BUT, I don't always mind being gone, as long as if it isn't for too long. SHHHH!!! Don't tell anyone!!! Good mothers and wives aren't supposed to enjoy being apart from their beloved ones. Damn. There goes my mother-of-the-year award.

Actually, this isn't a big surprise to Chris. He knows that while I don't always enjoy being gone, every once in a while, it isn't exactly torture either. I am actually writing this blog from St. Charles, IL, where I have been staying at Pheasant Run Resort since Sunday evening. I have been doing my conference duty during the day - today I took a class to renew my principal's certificate for the year. However, of an evening, I have gone Christmas shopping and taken in a movie. I slept later than I normally get to during the week, got myself ready without having to dress anyone else or make anyone breakfast, and ate dinner in peaceful silence while reading my book. I helped no one with second grade math homework tonight, and I did not have to enforce punishment on a four year old who was a hellion again today at preschool (I hear there is another rock from Santa in her near future. . . but that is a story for another day. . . . )

Do I miss them? Of course! Am I enjoying a little time to myself? Uh...yeah. But - tomorrow after my sessions at the conference, I will head home. . .And I am very much looking forward to hugs and kisses all around from my loved ones. They will be glad to have me back home, and I will be glad to be there.

Traveling for work . . . .part of my job. . . have to do it. . . but not always a bad thing.

MAMA SAID THERE'D BE DAYS LIKE THIS. . .

As soon as I picked Aleita up from school yesterday, the first thing she told me is that she needed to wash her shoes. She said she had got them dirty while playing outside that day. I glanced at them and thought to myself that they really looked no worse than when I had sent her in them that morning, but getting into a debate with a three year old wasn’t at the top of my list at that given moment. Besides, I thought that maybe she was just meaning that she had wood chips or sand in her shoes from playing outside, which often happens (unfortunately, I almost always seem to forget to sit her down OUTSIDE and dump out her shoes, and then I end up with it all over the kitchen floor when she pulls them off.)

Thinking no more of it, we proceeded home. As soon as we were out of the car, Aleita again started in with the needing to wash her shoes thing. I was actually glad she reminded me, so that for one day, I wouldn’t have sand and/or wood chips all over the floor. I sat her down on the steps in the garage that lead into the house to pull her shoes off, and that is when I realized that she was quite accurate that her shoes, indeed, needed to be washed. I was also reminded that sometimes being a mom is quite literally, a crappy job. As soon as I pulled off her right shoe, it only took a glance at my hand to understand why she felt her shoes needed to be washed. You see, at some point during her day of playing at pre-school, Aleita had apparently stepped in dog poop.

Cleaning dog poop off the bottom of your kids’ shoes is one of those “mom” jobs that ranks right up there with cleaning up vomit or having to put your hand in the toilet to retrieve a dropped object. You go through most of your days, not even really thinking about “being an adult.” For me, the fact that I really am an adult doesn’t hit home when I am working at my job, parenting my kids, or in thinking about the ten years my husband and I have been married. No, adulthood tends to smack me in the face at those moments when I realize that I am the one who has to clean the dog poop off the shoe because that is what a mom does. As kids, we couldn’t wait to grow up so we could be adults and do the exciting things that adults do. If we had only known. . . .