Covet the Dust

For my birthday and Mother's Day I told my man all I wanted was a day. One day. One all alone, drinking copious amounts of caffeine while flitting inside antique shops and other un-kid-friendly shops, day. Just a day.



No buckling and unbuckling car seats.
No listening to bluegrass music.
No stopping at the airport to watch planes come in.
No buckling and unbuckling car seats.
No drink spills to clean up.
No fighting.
No crying.
No forgetting why I had gone into the store in the first place.
No coming out with items I can't remember why I purchased them.
No going back to aisle 3 b/c I've lost my keys.
No going back to the register b/c I forgot my phone.
No buckling and unbuckling car seats.

In all honesty, I love ALL of those things.  Especially stopping at the airport to watch planes.  And listening to bluegrass music.  And hearing about how Landon bit Chloe on the playground and he got sent to the office.  And about how we love Jesus.  And how one day he's gonna be just like Grandad and tell everybody about God.  And Jesus.  And how we won't go to jail...except to tell people about Jesus, like Grandad does.

And about Mommas being the only parent able to poop out babies.

You just can't make this stuff up, people.

But after 7 years of parenting I'm ready for a day.  Or two.  Ok, after 7 years I'm ready for a month.  But I'll take a day.

So this Saturday my sweet, sweet man has agreed to send me on my way sans les petite enfants and let me shop.  To my heart's content.

Or until the stores close.  Because that will definitely come first.

I have no doubt I'll be calling home every hour just to check on everybody.
I have no doubt my phone will ring for every meal, snack, diaper change, and fight.
I have no doubt sweet man and I will exchange countless photos of the day's happenings.
I have no doubt I'll come home to one disaster-wrecked house.

So if you see me out and about on Saturday you may wave. 

Of course, if sickness doesn't leave this house you'll have to wave to me at the Holiday Inn.  There are days where sleeping trumps shopping.