That’s me and my boys at 4am this morning.
They left for a weekend camping trip with their dad.
I can’t believe how incredibly sad I feel at this moment.
An entire weekend without my boys. Last night, after dealing with hours of listening to them fight, you think I’d be happy! You think I’d be all “yay! an entire weekend of no fighting!” But I’m not.
I could have went with them, but I didn’t think Gabby would like sleeping in a cold tent.
Wow, I can’t believe how incredibly easy it was to blame it on Gabby. Even easier than blaming her for my farts. The truth is I hate camping. H-A-T-E I-T. I wouldn’t hate it if we had a motor home. A warm place to sleep where you can lock the door and pee on a clean toilet. But sleeping on the ground with the possiblity of a bear or snake creeping up on you?
I’ll probably regret it one day. Not going and enjoying the great outdoors with my family. Infact? I’m regretting it this very minute.
Because I already miss them.
I cried when they drove off, I’m still crying now, and I’ll probably still be crying when I crawl into my bed tonight without getting kisses from the three boys who I love the most.
When I wrote that? I had been up since 4am. And I was tired.
I think The Tired clouded my feelings.
I mean, I miss them quite a bit. And I sort of wish I was there with them.
I don’t have to cook for three days!
I don’t have to clean up after anyone but me and Gabby!
I don’t have to break up any fights!
I don’t have to hear the phrase “I’m bored”!
I don’t have to threaten to “sell a playstation2 on ebay”!
Just me! And Gabby! And a $20 bill! All weekend long!
What a difference 2 hours of sleep make.