The kids haven't seen their dad since summer vacation, so it's been a while. I think my grocery bill could use the break just as much as I could. Man, do teenage boys eat! But I digress.
Whatever will I do? Oh, please.
1. I will sleep past 5:30am. Every single day. Even 6am sounds like a dream. But probably more like 7am, if I am lucky and Conor cooperates.
2. I will still be teaching piano lessons.
3. I have a Political Science project due about my city government.
4. I have a Microbiology project due soon in which I have to correctly identify two unknown microbes. I thought I wouldn't have to go in to the lab this week because class is cancelled due to Thanksgiving, but apparently, I have to make several trips down to do inoculations and tests so that I can figure out what little guys I'm dealing with.
5. I have a test in Lifespan Psychology on Tuesday night. Oh, crap. I'd forgotten about that till I just wrote it down.
6. I have lots of sewing to do for Christmas. This is probably what I will use as a reward pending completion, or at least progress, in the above 5 tasks.
7. Thanksgiving. Though, I don't know what we're doing for Thanksgiving. I don't know that I really care to go to all that work/expense for just the three of us. With two of those people (and I'm not one of them) not being very good eaters. Hmmmmmm.
Well, so with everything on this list (that I would have to do anyway, whether my kids are here or not, except for the fact that if the kids were here Thanksgiving would be non-negotiable), what do I get a break from? Ah, let me tell you.
5. Counseling sessions
6. L & A's piano lessons
7. cooking Dinner every night, as opposed to dinner with a lowercase 'd' for the three of us.
8. cooking Breakfast, and fixing Lunch, and Snacks, and more Snacks.
9. telling Dylan over and over and over and over to watch his language. Especially around Conor.
10. telling Dylan over and over and over and over to leave Aiden alone.
11. telling Dylan over and over and over and over that we are not racist in this house.
12. telling Dylan over and over and over and over that I need him to do this, do that, STOP doing this and that, etc. And to please tuck in his chair. (inside joke.)
13. telling Dylan to please stop passing gas and hocking lugees (is that how you spell it? I've never written the phrase 'hocking lugees' before.)
14. Dylan. Let's just give him his own bullet point. I love that kid to death, but man, a break from him is good for both of us. Of course, I'll cry and miss him as soon as I drive away, though. And I'll pray the whole way home. Oh, Dylan!
So, that sums it up, I think. Hitting the road!