So M left last night for Colorado to visit Siobhan and Margaret (and I think he may even be able to see Ryen, too!). We picked him up from work at about 3:30 (the earliest I think he's ever left the office) and toddled over to Midway, and did a nice, dramatic kiss goodbye (for his 4 day trip) at the departures area and the girls and I meandered on home for the girls' weekend! Whoo hoo!
Man, it is funny how the definition of "girls' weekend" changes as we grow up. Not that my friends and I were big on weekend getaways, but weekend benders on each others' sofas, sure thing!
Fitting in with my Rockwellian-image-producing-brain, of course, is the visual I had of the girls waking up, trundling into my room and relaxing on our big bed. There were of course giggles involved, as well as perhaps a bowl of cheerios and fruit, of course on a beautiful tray. And somehow we'd be transformed from our sweatpants and footie jammies into romantic flowing white nightgowns that would beam brightly (my whites are never really bright anyway...Sorry Miss Yvonne. You'd hate me if you saw my laundry skills (or lack thereof)) as the morning sun streamed in through the window, casting prisms on the wall from the crystal hanging in the window.
SCREEEEECH...Put the brakes on, Aim.
Char comes into my room, screaming her head off chanting "GOOD MORNING GOOD MORNING GOOD MORNING!" and jumps on the bed. Then jumps some more on the bed. FINE. I'm up. Damn. I flip on the tv (wait! That wasn't in my vision!) and roll back over. Her morning song has awoken the beast - er - El, and I scoot in to grab her from her crib. We get back to the bed, Char has invited Millie onto the bed, and we sit, with Arthur and the Incredibles on the tube, and I try to scooch into the 3 inch corner of bed that remains. The jumping. The yelling. The hitting (GOOD GOD Ellie's a bully). The tattling. The whining. And we're all still in footies and sweats. And the bowl of dry cheerios I brought in for them to munch on and buy me some time were spilled all over and Millie had a field day picking them up from my armpit.
At least the sunlight was streaming in through the window.