Lessons learned solo
June 30, 2005
Um…sorry for the silence. I’ve been getting grief from my loyal fans (aka my parents), and I suppose I should feel guilty. See, here’s the deal. The boys are going to vacation Bible school at a nearby church this week.
All THREE boys.
I’ve had every morning from 9-12 to myself this week, and it’s been amazing.
I don’t get all that much kid free time in my life, and I’ve been out there using my precious hours to their very best advantage.
Shopping.
What, you thought I was going to say I was taking French lessons or something? No no no, my precious lambs, I have been hitting the mall. For one glorious day I had my friend Amy along, but for the rest it was just me and my Visa. And now I will share with you what I have learned as I meandered the stores, arms laden with clothes.
- After spending more than an hour with no one to talk to, I start muttering to myself. “Now, WHO needs purple sandals with rhinestones? I mean REALLY?” or “What corporate exec decided shirts should be see-through this season?”
- Not long after that, I move to making friendly comments to my fellow shoppers. “Oh, now THOSE are cute!” or “Hey, do YOU like see-through shirts?”
- Not everyone appreciates this.
- Even if my children have been participating in a vicious campaign all morning to drive me stark raving mad, and I’ve seriously considered dipping them in chocolate and eating them, three minutes after leaving their side if I encounter a mom with a little boy who looks like any one of mine, I will be swept with a longing to smell his head.
- I seem to be a sap.
- There really ARE Starbucks everywhere.
- It’s hard to find pretty strappy sandals when you have feet that have both the width and the charm of a duck’s.
- It is worth the search.
- I am personally affronted when a skirt in MY SIZE turns out to be too small on my actual hips.
- I am irrationally proud when a skirt in MY SIZE turns out to be too large.
- I know that’s not logical.
- When I hand Tre and Max over to the care of another adult, they morph into angel children. When I arrive to pick each of them up I am greeted with a chorus of, “OH WHAT A LOVELY BOY!”
- I don’t know if I should be irritated that they don’t behave that well for me or slip them five bucks for making me look good.
- Raphael, on the other hand, is true to form. When I pick him up I am greeted with, “My my my, what an active child! I mean, he’s SWEET! But oh my. He’s a BOY, isn’t he? Don’t get me wrong, he’s terribly CUTE! Um…someone said a bad word today. We don’t know who it was [meaningful look at my sweet, cute child], but we wanted you to know.”
- I don’t know if I should be irritated at him for misbehaving or pleased to know it isn’t just me.
- My answer for all three of them is to hug them tight and smell their heads.
- Their heads smell like sunscreen and puppies.
- Time away from the kids is wonderful.
- Time with the kids is irreplaceable.