I'm taking a vacation from mothering this week. The oldest is off to visit the bio-Dad (we were married once, "bio-Dad" is a teasing nickname I use for him). The hubby has a full week at work. I have SPRING BREAK (has to be written in capital letters). That left only the smaller monkey, and I've just paid for camp. All day camp. Well worth the money, even given that my paycheck just got smaller again.
It's only five days, but I'm so excited just at the thought of having all this time to myself. I'll only be a mom for a few hours a day, and only to one kid, who still goes to bed early. I'll leave the house at weird times, alone, and listen to music (or an audiobook) that I choose. I'll watch television and movies full of sex, violence and swearing. I'll read something that doesn't rhyme . . .and I'll read it silently, to myself, while drinking tea.
Many of my students and colleagues were planning trips and adventures. But, not me, I'm planning to kick everyone else out and stay home. For those who know me and my wandering feet, it's probably a giant surprise that I don't want to go anywhere. But, I'm putting the break back in Spring Break, because, honestly, I'm feeling pretty broken. That's what happens when life steps on you too much.
I've got a great healing plan though, and it won't change my insurance rates. I'm going to sleep enough, exercise a little and write a lot. Yeah, baby. Heaven.