the juggle was real

Do you want to know what I gave up for lent?

Coffee and chocolate {usually it's fries because the hospital cafeteria makes a mean fry .... and I'm 12}

Anyway, and then do you want to know what happened?

Simon went out of town for five days.

Yes, the lenten sinner beat out the lenten saint {but just this once, of course! of course} and I only regret not buying a bigger bottle because ...

the weekend weather was so delightful.

In like a lion?

More like in like a motherhating tyrant. I believe his name was Sparta ... and apparently Thor is right behind him .... joy and euphoria abound.

Julia curled up for an afternoon nap on the couch slash ... my winter sentiments exactly. {oh, is it cliche to hate on winter? please - see all my care. right there ..... }

Anyway, back to the former situation at hand.

Simon was gone in North Carolina getting his conference on {along with some pretty solid uninterrupted sleep, I'd imagine but! let's not dwell on that, baby G} and we, The Abandoned, were getting along okayish when I broke/crushed a molar into pieces someway/somehow and it needed somewhat immediate medical attention but not immediate enough that I was willing to take the kids in with me. All the laughing emojis. Luckily (!!!!!) I found a last minute sitter and snatched up a canceled dental appointment and after much and very welcome drilling and patching ... I was as good as new.

Trying to smile in my weekend widow finery but the good dentist numbed me up to my eyeballs.

Not complaining. 

At all. 

The kids got creative with their imaginative play after they tired of playing in the snow for 2.3 minutes. Here we have Julia teaching her dutiful pupil Theo how to pretend to "barax in the sun and get a tan at the beach!!" ...

the most charmed childhood.

And then Grace got crazy and desperate for fleeting social interaction with a population over the age of five years and it only made logical sense to hit up the fabric store on Friday night.

Fiesta.
Forever.

Or, por vida if you prefer.

I kew exactly what Sebastian was thinking before he started thinking it {"unravel all the ribbons, now"} and made the necessary intervention/yanked him away.

The kind gal cutting fabric for my {very tiny} projects refused to believe that Julia and Sebastian weren't twins and then that they were all mine {always a funny question because you know what I'd do if the kids had friends over? take them on menial Friday night errands} and then kept calling them a child army and giggling while I zipped my coat up nice and tight lest she {understandably} start in on soldier #5.

Anyway, we survived. And now I have an even greater appreciation for single parents and those with spouses that travel frequently and those with spouses who are deployed. You are better humans than I am. I didn't struggle with holding down the fort solo so much but mostly how shallow my patience reserves were and how quickly the fifth request for milk in between two diaper changes over the course of five minutes sent me into super impatient land. And then came the vicious cycle of extreme guilt followed by a new resolve to be patient and an almost immediate fail. Repeat! And although on the introverted scale I fall somewhere near "antisocial hermit" I was extremely surprised at how lonely I felt.

But, ding dong the trip is dead because Simon got home late last night. Months of stalking the 10 day forecast has paid off and I saw a 60-something predicted for next week and we are going to hit every packed playground we possible can that day.

I had the happy foresight to hire a sitter for my OB appt this morning where I was genuinely shocked to learn I hadn't gained 10 pounds since last visit {close though! very close} followed by a gloriously solo trip to Target to buy a new dish brush and maybe some creamer. Maybe.

I'll never tell.