As a mom, it can be hard to remember who you were before the invasion of little people. You know, when you could think complete thoughts. When you could sleep through the night, go to a movie on a whim, stop on the song that you like. The days when you got stuff done. Jon Yesterday: “How was your day?” Me: “Fine.” Jon: “What did you do?” Me: “Umm….” thinking, thinking, thinking. “Something.” Because multiple hours did pass. And I was in the car a lot. I had to have done something. I got everyone where they needed to be, drove a field trip, went to three different stores so we could weather the brutal storm headed our way, came home and put everything away, … I even got up at 5 am. But did I do anything? Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. In the midst of one of my
“Okay, I’m right in front of the trees,” Jon reported over the phone. He was standing in front of the fake Christmas trees at Costco. “Which one do you want. 7 ½’, 9’ or 12’?” A few years ago, we bit the bullet and switched from a fresh to a fake Christmas tree. It was calling my name from the warehouse-store aisle. The pre-lit beauty needed to be in our house. It seemed so easy and convenient. And we figured that despite the rather large cash outlay, in the end we would save money. We’ve enjoyed that tree for several years. Until last year. Last year, we sold our house to a family who promptly tore it down, opting to build a larger, more up-to-date abode. It wasn’t until the bulldozers had done their duty that we realized only half of our fake tree had made the move. The other half, still in the attic, went down with the house.
Last week, I flew home from Virginia and a little over 24-hour trip. If I can make a day-trip, I do it. But sometimes I have to spend the night somewhere. And what a beautiful spot to spend the night – Virginia Beach, Virginia. I called Jon from my hotel room that looked over a stunning garden and sea of towering trees adorned in the beauty of Autumn leaves. “We need to vacation here.” I told him, hopeful that we might actually take a vacation this summer. “It’s beautiful. I haven’t seen it, but there’s a beach. And so much to do. And Williamsburg is close. We could hit D.C. …” “I’ve never been there.” “Me neither. But we would love it. The kids would love it.” The kids. They’re the reason why I will do my best to day trip rather than overnight. Life goes so fast; I don’t want to miss a thing. Even the uncomfortable
“So, what do you think about lunch next week?” my friend asks me over the phone. We had been catching up while I drove north to the West Plano Costco. I love Costco. Sam’s is great, too. But we had weekend visitors headed our way. One of which happens to be my father-in-law who has a fetish for the Kirkland brand Cashew Crunch. I might have a fetish myself and an appreciation to be able to blame my father-in-law for stocking the house. “Oh my word – “ I cut her off. “Someone just took the parking spot I have been waiting for. Seriously, I was waiting with my blinker the entire time that lady was loading her car and putting away the cart. I can’t believe someone would pull in front of me.” “How rude!” my friend commiserated. “I know … Can you believe?!” But, I shrugged it off. “Whatever. There’s a guy coming up to