I have the weirdest sensation of guilt and joy going on right now. Well, actually, it's joy quickly followed by guilt. And then joy again.
On Saturday, the Mr. and I took our older two children two hours away to my parents' house. And then came home. Without them. (The baby stayed with us because I'm still nursing her.)
The woman who watches them during the day while we're at work took her week's vacation this week and drove her family to New York to visit her family. Three kids in a car from Missouri to New York. And one of them is only nine months old. I suppose her nerves will be frayed by the time she gets home. I know mine would be!
But I digress. Last night was the first night home without the little boogers. I felt so relaxed. I felt so unscheduled. I felt quite peaceful. That's the joy part. I'm feeling pretty happy and well, peaceful, these last two days. And I have until Thursday (when Mom will bring The Big Kids home and we will subsequently commit her to the looney bin after having her
nerves frayed by my wild ones!).
Here's the guilt part: I don't really feel like I miss them. Last night at 8:30--a full 30 minutes past their bedtime--the phone rang and I thought, "Oh, sh*t! I forgot to call them before bed." It wasn't like I was busy or anything either. Just sitting on the couch reading through some old papers.
So for part of last night and this morning I alternately beat myself up and then scolded myself for beating myself up because even though I'm not counting the hours until I see them again (yet) I have realized that I really, really, really need time to refresh myself. I will be such a better mom for them when they come home.
I should do this more often.