Sunday afternoon, after a night filled with incessant questioning, "Is it time to go yet? Is it morning, yet? Is that the sun? I think that's the sun. Mom! The sun's up!", we packed three anxious, if not well-rested Hill children into the back of our decorated car and shipped them off to camp. Then, we sent Sadie to Camp Nanny and Bunty, a.k.a. House of Spoiling, for a couple of days.
And good riddance. Whew.
Except, my babies are not here. They're, sniff, at camp. For a whole week.
My house is quiet
Laundry is done, folded, put away.
There is a completed puzzle that is still intact and none of the pieces have been placed in the DVD player to see if a movie plays.
The flowers are watered.
Errands are done.
I knew what we were having for dinner tonight before we even had breakfast.
Trey and I did get a couple of days to ourselves fishing and eating steaks in the smallest town in Texas. Pure awesomeness. Except for the remnants of my poison ivy which you can still see on my arm in this picture.
See, right there.
It does distract from the fact that I forgot to put mascara on, though, which is a bonus.
Anyway, it's quiet. A little too quiet. Sadie, Dea, Darius, Trey and I are doing the best we can to get through the week. We're sleeping in late, doing puzzles, and chilaxin at Sonic Happy Hour.
And we're hoping Monkey getting the staples out of his shoulder where a girl stabbed him with a piece of glass because he told one too many "Yo momma." jokes won't be the most exciting thing that happens all week.