Every day for 365 days? What was I thinking?
I woke up this morning to the chaos of kids and husband getting ready to go back for the first day of school and work after the holiday with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I knew, of course, they were going back today. Their backpacks were ready, their snowsuits and boots by the door. But gloves, apparently, had been lost, unbeknownst to me, and Daddy was storming around grousing about the Bermuda Triangle that is our house. The kids were repeating over and over, "I don't know!" to Daddy's constant, "Where did you put them!?" question.
Our foot of snow is supposed to melt over the next few days. My guess is we will find them then, somewhere in the yard. For now, they wore mismatched gloves of the knit variety - the ones Michael hates and claims are useless. But at least they're better than nothing.
The house was quiet once the littles were gone and Michael had left for his second-to-last day of work before he starts the new job. The only company I have now during the day is Sophie the Cocker Spaniel since we found new forever-homes for the big dog and the two cats, because of my allergies (and I can already feel the difference.)
Michael has been talking more and more about moving up north, which would mean homeschooling again, most likely. I wouldn't mind. We spent all vacation working on our reading and our counting (backwards and by 2's and 5's especially, and adding things like peanut butter crackers and celery sticks) and they're moving forward by leaps and bounds.
I knew I was going to miss them when they went back to school, but the house seems eerily empty to me during the day today. Just me and Sophie, wandering around, looking for things to do. Somehow I just don't think families were ever meant to be split up like this. I'm feeling that particularly, today, looking out at the fat blanket of snow where my children should be playing.
Guess it means I'll have lots of time to blog.