Absence Makes The Heart...Beat Faster

Back with a vengeance from my company's annual conference. SO exciting seeing my ladies upon my long-awaited, cry-inducing return.

My sweet mom, who along with my weakened, but getting-stronger-day-by-liver-growing-day-until-chemo-starts-back father, helped watch the girls while I was away enjoying fine wine, great food and a bevy of single men who ran around, catering to my every need...NOT!

Although I missed the girls, and my heart would race as I heard them start to cry during our one-sided telephone calls, I did enjoy sleeping solo in the large, soft bed and watching old movies late at night w/o fearing I'd wake the under five crowd.

Absence made both me AND my daughters realize how much we love and need one another. Or at least that's what my parents told me as they happily returned the little rascals Tuesday afternoon. Thanks Mom and Dad-I'd e lost without you. And my little women:)

My Big Break...Back Included.

Apologies for my absence. I wish I could say I was off doing something meaningful and giving back to the world in some significant manner. Does throwing out my back before my company's annual conference count? It should. If this conference doesn't kill me, the pain from my 35-going-on-65 back, will.

Ironically, as much as I beat myself up about my one-woman parenting gig--and the lack of life I lead because of it; I am absolutely devastated and terrified to leave my girls. But let's not kid ourselves: A room, a bed AND remote control from the comfort of my hotel room...sheer paradise.

And if I get loneley, I can always log on to my blog and watch this...

When It Rains...It Snows.

Metaphorically speaking, "the rain" is the dizzying array of household chores I spend entirely too much time on in order to have a "clean, organized" home for my two, toe-headed girls to live in. After the house is somewhat livable, I then spend every second trying to engage my children in "mess-free" play; an oxymoron that has yet to "play" out the way I envision it.:(

As it so happens, I have kept a bottle of Johnson & Johnson Baby Powder on hand for the occasional diaper rash. By rule of thumb, it's a good idea in my household to "hide" any products that can cause asphyxiation, or fires.

Wednesday evening, exhausted after a short, content-heavy week of work, I started to pack for our New Year's Eve trip. Granted, we were only going 90 miles and staying for two days (any overnight trip with two kids under five and no partner to "help" is like packing for a small army or preparing for a single-mom pilgramige). The checklist,the diapers/wipes, nebulizer on the off-chance an asthma attack occurs and so on and so forth - and don't forget about the sippy cups with their last names in Sharpie (at $4.99 a cup, you'd plaster your name on it too).

Leaving the girls in the living room, a mere 10 feet away, while I tried to "pack" for our small, family unit to finally venture out and have some FUN was beginning to sink in and even excite me a bit. Until I smelled something...dense...sneak in my nostrils and sit heavily in my chest. That, coupled with the girls being suspiciously quiet set off alarm bells in my Scattered-Single-Mon brain: Two factors of what I already concluded would be bad news.

Briskly walking the ten feet, I stopped short at five...intuitively knowing the scene that would befall my eyes. Sara the Terror had FOUND the damn powder and decided to make it "snow" in my living room, 30 minutes after I had it in tip-top shape, which in itself is a rare sight to behold.

Both girls would have received "callbacks" had a studio held open casting calls for "Casper." And the lamp, (all 20 pencil-thin ridges) in addition to all surrounding home decor were completely white. Albino white. Tacky after Labor Day white.

With their bedtime looming and another three hours of organizing at hand, I debating cancelling the trip. As my mom likes to say, "It's too much sugar for a dime." But looking at my daughters, whose eyes were ablaze with both excitement and while less discreet, but duly noted, a sense of one-upmanship, made it impossible to stay angry...Until Sara tried to make a "snow-bunny" lying in the powder...The fork was in for the night, and stayed submerged until we arrived at our destination 16 hours later. Nothing like New Years Eve with the kiddos.