This weekend, my parents took the kids!! BOTH KIDS! for a whole 28 hours... not that I was counting or anything.
It was really nice having some time to ourselves. Even if we did spend the majority of that time doing manual labor. We ran errands with out tears. We worked in the garden without having to watch who was running in the street. We went out to dinner without rushing. We watched a movie with profanity. We slept in... until we just couldn't sleep anymore. We ate breakfast and simultaneously read the paper. We went for a walk without a stroller. And then... the best part... we went our separate ways! Adam went golfing with his dad and brother, I went to get a long overdue haircut and highlights.
By the time the kids came home on Sunday, we were ready for them.
It was so much fun to walk through the door and see little Grant light up... and lift up his little arms... and run toward me.... and call me "Dada".
That's right, my son calls his mother Dada... If you have a problem with that... Just don't tell me. OK- maybe I do have a little problem with this new development. Maybe I would like him to call me Mama. But maybe I will pretend not to notice and just enjoy his heart wrenching hugs and his big sloppy kisses and know that he loves me, no matter what name he uses.