Last year began a new tradition in our household. One that will probably continue for the next eight years or so. One week in the summer, we get a week without kids. One amazing week where we get to play like we're one of those trendy, professional couples that have enough foresight (and self control, apparently) to wait until into their thirty-somethings to start having a family. Well, except for the part where we aren't trendy or professional, more like hopeless and blue collar, but I digress. We get one short week where we have no one here but us and the dogs. Jock is away at Football Camp and Bug stays the week at Mama G's because there isn't anyone home to stay with him.
What do we get out of this week for the relatively small price of giving our children to someone else to worry about for the week? We get:
A week where I do not have to cook massive amounts of food, and there is always the possibility that I don't have to cook at all as Coach is amazingly adept at foraging through the pantry.
A week where (ummm.... possible TMI alert here... feel free to skip to the next bonus point) I get to sleep in the oldest pair of pajama's I own... the set I came into the world in. (And if you've never experienced the HELL that is Arizona in the summertime, you just can't appreciate this as well)
A week where there are no cartoons on the TV, unless WE want to watch them.
A week where I can leave the bedroom door open when I shower to let the steam out. (Again.... when its already 90 degrees at 7:00 in the morning, anything you can do to relieve some of that heat is a good thing!)
A week where I don't get phone calls or text messages all day long tattling on each other.
Basically, we get a week where we aren't parents anymore. Sounds ideal, no?
Yeah. I've discovered I hate it. Well, maybe hate is too strong. I DO love the time I get to spend with Coach, just us, no interruptions. What I don't like so much is not talking to my boys every day. I don't like not getting hugs at bedtime. I don't like not hearing frequent Love you, Mom from two distinctive voices. Basically, I just don't like not seeing them, knowing they're here, being their mom.
They are growing up at an alarming rate, and even though I'm loving every step of the way (even the steps I'm finding I might not be so good at) I am dreading the day that they've grown up enough to not need me anymore. I am dreading the day when I don't have a countdown to the day they're coming home, because they won't be coming home anymore.
So if any of you have any suggestions on reconciling the desire to help them gain their independence and become amazingly wonderful men, with the desire to keep them right where they're at so I can just KEEP them forever? I'd really appreciate it.
And so you know? Watching shows on Nickelodeon like iCarly and Drake and Josh? Um... that doesn't help.
Not that I've done that this week. Much.