Last updated on October 1, 2017
It should probably be called “momcation” but kidcation is what I used last year, and I’m nothing if not consistent. So the kids left yesterday with Pepa to travel back to Alabama to stay with Mema for their annual visit. This time for two weeks. All three kids gone for two weeks. No kids for two weeks. Just want to let that sink in.
Of course, with kids, the goodbyes were similar to that of a school morning. The Girl (11yo) hugged me, then asked if I was going to miss Nacho (the relatively new-to-us Chihuaha she decided to take with her) more than her. Wonder Boy (almost5yo) semi-hugged me and said “yeah, I’ll miss you but bye.” I had to wrangle a hug out of Boy Genius (9yo) because he was more concerned with getting the seat by the window in the car. Â Since they left, I received two text messages from the Girl: “We r at memas :p luv ya” and “k,” when I said I loved them all too. That. is. it. No other communication. No goodnight call last night. No calls or texts today. They’ve forgotten about me already. Today, I’m okay with that. In a week’s time, though, I just might cry. Ok, probably not.
The advantage of no longer practicing law and of being an adjunct instructor is that, with no kids, I didn’t have to be up at any certain time today. I’m only teaching online this summer, so I don’t have to do anything at any certain time today. So what have I done with my newfound freedom? I can tell you what I haven’t done … cooked anything, washed a lick of clothes, picked up a single toy. I also haven’t paid much attention to the clock. I’m pretty sure it was almost noon when I decided I’d laid in bed and played computer games long enough this morning. I got up, milked the goats, fed and watered all the animals, and decided that was enough for the day. I showered when I wanted to shower (ok, it was after all the farm work so it was necessary, but I mean, I didn’t have to get everyone else situated first). I’ve used the bathroom in private, well, except for the lab who doesn’t believe doors are meant to be shut. And now it’s only 5 p.m. and I’m in my pjs. I may or may not go to karate tonight. Â All I’ve eaten today is a bowl of raisin bran and green olives straight from the jar. Yep, I’m livin’ it up.
Don’t get me wrong. There’s still plenty I could be doing. Obviously, the laundry has to be done. It’s neverending. There’s bills to pay. The grass needs to be mowed. The porches need to be cleaned. I’ve got law school papers to grade. And there’s about a dozen other things I can think of right off that should be done. Â Then there’s the things I want to get done in the kids’ absence, like catching up on blogging, reading (comics and books), updating the farm website. Things that should be fun, but when I try to do it in the midst of everyday hustle and bustle, they just feel like another task. This is a no-task kidcation. I know I’ll still do stuff, because, let’s face it, I’d get really bored otherwise; but I’ll do it on my time. Â Hubs texted me this morning to tell me he left a to-do list on the printer for me. Now, I could have been all “oh no, you didn’t” about it. But, instead, I just laughed. And laughed. And laughed. This is my time, honey. To-do lists be damned.