Well, after some hog-wild Christmas parties, my 4th grader and my 2nd grader have been released into my custody for 16 fun-filled days. No homework. No yelling and screaming "We're late! Put a fire under it!" No waking up at ungodly hours of the day (that would be any time before 9:00. 10:00 if I had my way.)
The only problem I foresee is that hubby is not off work for part of this time, so I will be rising when Trixie crams her hand under my shoulder bone and says "Up! Up! Jooshy. Jooshy." (that's 2 year old talk for "Get your a** out of bed and get me some juice woman!")
Why? Why? Why did I get pregnant so late in life? Was it really worth the extra years of fun when I was young? I think not at this point. And why wasn't Trixie born first? If she was, I would've never had the next two, which means she would be 9 by now, which means I could probably be sleeping in until at least 9:00 for the next two weeks...
but I digress. Have I mentioned how much I love being a mom? 'Cause I really do. I wouldn't trade it for anything, but it doesn't mean I haven't asked God, "Why?" on occasion.
I am truly looking forward to the next two weeks. It's like summer. The kids get to be kids and have fun with no pressure, no committments, no assignments hanging over their shoulders. It really is tough to be a kid sometimes, so I love times like these.
Now if I can only get the rest of the presents wrapped.
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