The girls are visiting their Nanny for a few days and, just as always, I have visions in my head of all that I will accomplish in their absence: finish up preparing for She Speaks, clean all the toilets, change the sheets, go to the store, finish the laundry, hang out with girlfriends, catch up on So You Think You Can Dance, read a book, de-clutter the closets, save the world.
They are only gone for three days. And? I still have one kid here with me. Even so, I always have high expectations for what’s gonna go down when my load is lightened a bit. What generally happens is I get half of my list done, lament the other half and spend the re-entry day on edge. (You know, re-entry…the day the kids come back.)
This time, though, in part due to my new-found love of the morning, I am actually able to finish some things. More than that, I have had the opportunity to stop and miss my girls. I wasn’t planning on doing that. It certainly wasn’t on the list. Still, there is a heavy sweetness to walking in their room without them in it. There are reminders of their life-stage strewn all about, what only days ago I would have called a mess. Perspective changes everything, doesn’t it?
As I sat down this morning to try to put into words the longing for my girls that I only notice when they are gone, I came across this post from Tuesday’s Unwrapped by my bloggy friend Karin. Her header alone is reason to visit. She practically and authentically gives voice to what is still tucked away in my heart. Thank you, Karin for putting the words out there for us. We are collectively nodding our heads.