Spring Break for Mom

Some of you know already, but I surprised one of my best friends in Boise last weekend. It was kind of a selfish trip, though. Don't get me wrong, I really wanted to see her, but I also needed a break. From the kids. And the house. In order to have a break from both of those things for long enough to get my sanity back, I needed to go far away. So I hopped on a plane.

Stacy and I go way back. Back before everyone had cell phones and digital cameras. Before blogs and facebook, when you actually had to call people or sit and write them an EMAIL (oh, the agony). And we've traveled the world (well, a small part of it) together. Here we are in a metro station in Moscow, Russia. Ahem. . . almost 10 years ago. (yikes!)

This was one of the rare occasions that I went camping after I turned 18 (when I decided I'd never go camping again). I think this was at Redfish Lake in Idaho.

P.S. It wasn't 1994. More like 1999? 2000? I'm not sure. My camera was busted.

Anyhow, I've NEVER visited Stacy since she moved to Boise almost seven years ago. I've always regretted that.

We did grown-up girl stuff last weekend. Like shopping. Lunch in public without food flying all over. Watching movies without having to stop and break up a fight, change a diaper, break up another fight, confiscate lip gloss, put the kids to bed, put the big one back to bed, put the big one back to bed again, or fall asleep halfway through because I wake up at 7AM against my will every morning.

And I spent some time in the kitchen without anyone crying on my leg. (Yes, I cooked while I was there. I love it. And Stace let me do it because she loves it, too.) I believe it was Saturday night, though, about 24 hours from the time I said good-bye to Steve and the girls, that I realized I missed having this one tug on my leg and ask for cheese every time I cook dinner. . .

(and watch her open her mouth extra wide when she takes bites)

And I missed hearing this one walk in and out of the kitchen, talking to herself on the phone. . .

It only takes a few hours to start missing what I needed a break from for so long.

Happy 30th, Stace :) And thanks for letting me crash at your place and reminding me what it's like to hang out with grown-ups without needing to take care of anyone else but myself. It's nice sometimes. I still feel like me, but not wound quite so tightly.

P.S. Yes, I missed Steve, but not in the same way as I missed the girls. Because of his deployment, I think our threshold for missing each other is a bit longer than you'd expect. (Although I think he missed me more because he had the kids for a whole five hours by himself after he got back from Sac. Way to go, hon. ;))