confessions…

Last Saturday, I confessed to enjoying my kid-free weekends. (although feeling bad about it)

This Saturday, I’d like to show you why…

Hubby and I went camping….

the road less travelled

We stepped out of our technological reality for a weekend and went back to nature.

We made a pact – no computers, no texting, no emails… and the only phone calls allowed were to the boys.

We needed some time away. I’ve been stressed about work, trying to do too many things, and have taken it out on Hubby.  God bless him, he knows me and knows that a few days in a quiet setting with my camera will reset my mind and make me sane again.

Artisan cheeses

Saturday morning was raining and dreary, so we took the opportunity to tour around and visit some local cheese producers.

Hubby’s not a fan of chevre, but we soon discovered that he sure likes sheep cheese!

a beautiful view

The weather cleared up by lunchtime, as we ate lunch at the local golf club, in a dining room overlooking a  beautiful course set by a serene lake.

We had the most amazing view from our campsite.

And we took advantage of it. We sat out around a campfire in the evenings, and enjoyed a quiet cup of  coffee with french vanilla in the mornings.

footprints in the sand

We walked the beach every day.

Quietly searching it for the peace we so desperately needed.

Strolling hand in hand, completely silent, reaffirming our unbreakable bond to each other in ways that only we understand.

beauty and the beach

For 3 days, we roamed the beach, the dunes, the trails.  We drove and got lost on purpose.  We laughed, we cried, we ate.  I felt like I was in an Elizabeth Gilbert movie.

And slowly but surely, I was able to release some of the tension that I’ve been carrying around with me for weeks now.  This wonderful man who knows me so well knew exactly what to say and when to say it.

Which is exactly why I love him so very much.

the man I love

Secret Mommy-hood Confession Saturday

I’m a part time mom.

I used to hate being called this, but basically, I suppose it’s true.

I’m divorced and have my children 50% of the time, because I feel that children should spend equal amounts of time between mother and father. It’s only fair. Just because he’s a shitty husband, that doesn’t make him a shitty father. Plus, I put myself in his shoes and thought “I wouldn’t want to go for a week without seeing the boys”, so this is the arrangement.

And it usually works out just fine.

My confession is:

<<hanging my head in shame>>

I love my kid-free weekends.

There I said it.

As much as I love my children (and I do love them – more than anything else in this WORLD – and would love to have them with me full time.) I have gotten used to the every other weekend life.

I think it started when I was first separated. That first weekend, I had no idea what to do with myself, while the kiddos were at their Dad’s. I felt like I was just walking around in circles and accomplishing nothing.

That passed pretty quickly.

I soon realized that I could clean the whole house without having to re-clean it 10 minutes later!

OR

I could sleep until 8 o’clock! Or later if my internal clock wasn’t ringing!!!

OR

If I told someone “sure, I’ll be right there” – I could actually be right there.

I know!! – Amazing!

Now – Hubby and I do most everything together… we golf, we travel (relatively close to home, but still…), we camp, go to watch the Jays get slaughtered by the Yankees baseball games and love to have that impromptu date night and pick a restaurant on the fly. We’re best friends, and soulmates.

We have had discussions of adding another little person to our lives. It’s something that we’d love to do while we are still young and can enjoy it. And I have to admit, the longing to have another baby, a little bit of he and I together, strikes me quite often, especially since we’ve moved into a perpetually pregnant neighbourhood.

But there is that ever-nagging question:

Who will take the baby every other weekend???

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Secret Mommy-hood Confession Saturday

I hate rainy days. Especially on the weekends that I have the kids.
Rainy days mean I have to be creative.

Baaah.

Take this morning for instance.

Hubby and I are sitting at the kitchen table with three very very energetic boys – momentarily mesmerized by Star Wars cartoons.  I was relaxing after a nice run on the treadmill, enjoying my post-workout coffee with french vanilla creamer, when Hubby pops my ‘perfect world’ bubble – I realize that as he looks out the window at the pouring rain, he has a look of terror on his face.

He turns to me and says “ok…game plan for parental survival today?”

I laugh.  And realize… I got nothin.

Sip of coffee… look out the window.

Blank.

Scratch my head and look around the room (like that’s gonna help)…

Crickets chirping.

“Just wondering…” pipes up Hubby, “because there’s one who’s looking a little antsy already and it’s not even 9am”

I turn to see Monster doing his best Worm dance move on the new chaise lounge.

This is the moment when I realize that I hate the fact that every time it rains, I have to actually think of interesting and attention-holding things to do.  No an easy feat at my house.

And the strange thing is, when I don’t have to think of something awesome, I have ideas-a-plenty. When the pressure’s on…. stumped.  Can’t think of a darn thing.

Good thing I have my fort-building, cool snack-making hubby to help me out.  And even though my basement is now a maze of boxes and bedsheets, the kids are quite content in their cave (no grown-ups allowed…) and I can go watch some DIY clean the house.

Love ya babe!

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BBM Chronicles

Hubby:    Title of your next blog post: Don’t go to the dollar store on Friday 13th.

Me:   lol tell me about it
“Death by dirty people”

Hubby:   Yes!! omg  haha  Start by telling them how you are teaching me thriftiness. I’m the christian in the lions den…

Me:   Dare I ask why you were at the dollar store?

Hubby:   Bubble sticks.
you said they were cheaper there. (??)

Me:    Ah – yes, but at what mental cost??

Hubby:   Precisely.
AND no bubble sticks

Me:   Shit <i’m totally using this for a blog post>

**************

I totally stole “borrowed” this idea from a fave blog of mine lizsquared – I had to… it makes me laugh laugh laugh!!! 

I am so NOT a spa girl

It’s true.

Anyone who knows ANYONE that knows me will tell you that I’m not a patient person, and to truly enjoy the spa, you have to be patient and just relax.
That’s just not in my DNA.

BUT – my feet were screaming that they needed some TLC so I finally caved and called the spa.

They had a ‘seat sale’ – last minute appointments that were 20% off – and a pedicure was available the next day at 4:30, so I booked it.  Hubby had given me a gift certificate for Christmas this year (in the hopes that I would BECOME a spa girl ~ his pampered princess) so I figured what the hell.

That evening, disaster struck.  I decided to help Hubby wash his truck.  He had the leaky, crappy pressure washer hooked up in the garage and the puddle of water surrounding it made the floor like an ice rink to my pretty little Croc sandals.  In my very best Bambi-on-ice impression, one leg went one way, the other leg the opposite direction and I ended up in some sort of random pretzel form on the garage floor, with my foot tucked up underneath me, and my pride severely injured.

Great.  Now the top of my right foot looks like hamburger.  Awesome.

And shit – I have a pedicure tomorrow.  How good is a paraffin wax treatment going to feel on an open wound?  I better cancel.

Sooooo I call the spa the next morning clearly explaining that I’ve hurt myself and that there is an open wound on the top of my foot, so I’m really sorry, but I’ll have to cancel.

Spa Girl:  “You know about our cancellation fee right?”

Me: “Ummmm – sorry?”

Spa Girl: “Because you didn’t give us 24 hrs notice, we have to charge you”

Me: “Are you kidding?  I just booked the appointment within 24 hours!!! How could I possibly give you notice before that???  AND I’ve got a gaping wound on my foot. I don’t get a pass for that???”

Effing Spa Girl: “Well, I can let it go this time, but if it happens again, I’d definitely have to charge you”

Wow. The generosity is overwhelming.

Anyone who knows me, know that I’d definitely never be going back again…

Except that I have a gift certificate.  And I’m cheap.

Damn spa.