Sending Them Back

The alarm went off at 5:48am this morning. And after having a week of no alarms going off, it was disheartening for a moment. Spring Break is officially over.

Here we go again, I thought. Back in the saddle.

I realized this morning as I walked down the stairs trying to orient myself for the coming week, that this was probably the only Spring Break I'll ever have with all my kids. Ever. I mentioned how this was my first one in about 6 years. The kids are court-ordered to spend school breaks with their Dad, and it was just sort of serendipitous that this year the cards fell. . .in my lap. And that will most likely never happen again. It may not seem like a big deal, but my motherhood is mostly filled with duties. I get the routines, the structure, the school, scouts, work, sports, feed 'em, teach 'em, clean 'em sort of stuff. Their dad gets the play, the trips, the vacations. Whenever school is on break, most often the kids head off to spend time with him. And that's wonderful. But when they come home, it's back to the grindstone for me, and we don't often get much down time together. It's just the way it is. And so, when I realized what a blessing this last week was, it kind of choked me up. I may never have a Spring Break with all my kids together again. sigh.

We did have lots of fun, though. Outings and activities, and just hanging out at home, something the kids rarely get to do, and miss. Lyndsay even had two days off of work. They all managed their time fairly well, spreading homework out over the break so that nobody was crying on Sunday night with stress. Lyns got to eat dinner with us almost every night, which never happens save for weekends, because of her work hours. She eats home cooked Thai food every night at work, which she loves, but it was nice to have her at the table. We did a lot of cooking. We feasted. It was wonderful. She and I in the kitchen have great synchronicity.

We did some shopping. We did some organizing around the house. We watched some movies. We made frosted sugar cookies. We went for walks. We did Easter.

About Easter~ poor Adam had to work all day. He didn't even get to come to Church with us. But the kids successfully found their hidden baskets and ate chocolate to their little hearts' content, and then dressed in their Sunday best and off we went.


As a sidenote, Dylan ran 22 miles on Saturday for his marathon training, and now his knee is killing him. During church it started to swell, so I took him home to get it elevated and iced. I started the dough for the rolls, and ran back for the rest of the meetings. Poor Dylan hobbles. He'll be okay. I cannot believe he ran 22 miles. Good night. The qualifying race for the marathon is this weekend coming up.


Anyway, after Church we worked together on our Easter Feast. Glazed ham, cheesy potatoes, creamy fruit salad, Lion House rolls with homemade honey butter, sweet carrots, and white cupcakes with coconut buttercream for dessert. It was all delicious. After cleaning up, we piled onto my bed and watched episodes from the first season of 7th Heaven, the new show we're going to get into, now that we're waiting on LOST.

On Thursday somehow I pulled a muscle in my neck. The same area that has given me pain, trouble, and migraines since a car accident I had when I was 18. Oh, man does it hurt. I have spent the last several days just trying to manage pain without much success. There is not enough ibuprofen in the world, and I don't want to completely destroy my stomach lining or liver, but I'm really struggling. That pain put a bit of a damper on my cheerfulness at the end of the week (because you know how even when Mom's hurt or sick, the show must go on!), but the kids were great about pitching in to help.

And then this morning, as we were sitting down for scripture study, we noticed that the cat's neck was covered in blood, and upon investigation, he has a gouge about half a centimeter in diameter on the bottom of his chin. The flesh is just gone. I have no idea what he could have done to inflict that injury, as he's an inside cat and the wound is fresh. He either jumped up on something or down on something, but he did a number. Poor kitty can't even meow because his is a quiet breed, so he suffers in silence. I washed what I could and applied some Neosporin. We'll see how it progresses. Weird.

So, now the kids are back at school. They are recharged and ready to finish out this last push of the school year and give it all they've got. When I packed their lunches this morning, and wrote their little love notes to them, I wrote,

"I LOVE having you home. Please promise that no matter how old you get, you'll always come home. I love you so much. Love, Mom."

That's what I hope. That no matter what age, distance, or circumstances, my children will always want to be home. It sure feels good.

Just before I moved out of the house, my mom cross stitched a pattern for me, that still hangs in my kitchen. It reads, "Wherever you wander, wherever you roam, be happy and healthy and glad to come home."

I know what she means more than ever now.