I think I am developing a habit. I am not sure if it is a bad habit yet, but I think I know what I would be doing if I didn’t have kids and my time was my own. You will ask my what I did in the ten days my kids were gone. I could tell you I worked, which is true; tore down walls and hauled plaster- also true; I read about three books (they were short) and saw some friends. But what did I do with that time, you know the in between time when nothing is happening and there is some space to fill up? I blogged. Blogged my little head off. I can’t stop. I don’t even have much to say but here I am saying it. I even started another blog with my friend French Panic to chronicle our daily struggle with weight loss. It is called Slightlypudgy if you are interested.
But the kids come back today, spoiled rotten by their grandma (apparently my kids now have blundstones, ipods, new clothes for school and a pogo stick) and I will have less time to whisper my sweet nothings to the computer. Will I go into withdrawal? Will I suffer a minor depression that will keep me home from work? I doubt it. I will be too busy trying to spend the last remaining hours of the day with my kids. Trying to get to know them again and see if they are different from when they left. God, I hate that they are separate people and are allowed to experiences without me. I hate it and love it at the same time. How dare they have their own life?
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