Vacation day

There are t-minus three days until I start work again. Since K started daycare, I have been trying to cram all of the things that I have wanted/needed to do before going back. Day 1? Washed dishes. Day 3? Got my hair coloured. Day 6? Replaced my windshield that cracked last December. All very exciting stuff.

And then I realized that I needed to take a vacation day. I am sure that some people think...ummm...you're not working...you ARE on vacation. Well, as many other moms know, even if someone else is watching your kids for an hour, or a day, you are STILL working. Cleaning, grocery shopping, making doctor appointments, more cleaning...you get the drill. So, I took a real vacation day. And as I fled my house that morning (resisting the urge to leave a detailed snack-poo-nap schedule for my husband to follow) I felt a teeny bit guilty. Not because I was leaving my family, but because I DIDN'T feel bad about it. I deserved it, dammit! I headed to St. Anne's Spa where I relaxed in the outdoor hot tub, got a massage, ate amazing food (capping the day off with afternoon tea and scones was the best) and enjoyed the quiet. I left feeling like a different person. My "mom mask" washed off pretty easily in the hot tub and for a few hours, I was a 32-year-old woman who likes to enjoy a fancy pants spa every once in a while. It was nice.

When I arrived home that night, I became mom again pretty quickly as I was greeted by a sinkful of the previous night's dinner dishes. But I didn't mind one bit. As I sat down to a pizza dinner (daddy's night to "cook"), K blew me a giant kiss and G said..."I like your pedicure" (even though I was wearing socks and didn't actually get a pedicure...), and I thought...I have a pretty awesome family. It is amazing the perspective you gain from a bit of distance and a few scones.

Drama queen

My one-year-old is already a drama queen. She started daycare last week and didn't cry or fuss once. Now that she has been going for a few days, she knows the drill. We pull up, get out of the car, and usually somewhere between the car and the front door she realizes where she is going and starts to squirm. When the daycare lady opens the door, K immediately starts screaming. The exchange is quick and I usually stand outside of the door for a few minutes after it closes and listen for her wails. But, as soon as the door closes, she STOPS screaming completely. Yes, my daughter has already learned how to play her mommy. Hats off to you, baby K...