10 days of freedom and silence!

That's right! All three of my boys are in summer camp for two weeks from 9 am until 3 pm. Now don't get me wrong. I love my boys madly. But I do crave a peacefulness that does not often exist in a house with 3 boys ranging from 5 yrs-10 yrs old.

Someone is always running, jumping or bouncing something. Someone is always needing a snack, a drink, or a bandaid. Someone always has to pee when I'm washing my face or poop when I'm in the shower. If I'm on the phone, Collin absolutely has to practice his viola at that exact moment. Or Jack decides that he absolutely hates everyone and has to scream that through the house as his brothers absolutely have to follow him to torture him. Or Thomas absolutely has to have a snuggle that consists of him climbing on my head and blowing raspberries in my face. Nope, not an ounce of peace and quiet can be squeezed out of this household.

I have to admit that as much as I was looking forward to camp, I was also worried about how smoothly it would go. Thomas had only been to a half day soccer camp last year. Even then, I had to stay for half of it or he would cry. I was also having some separation anxiety about leaving my last baby for a full day. My baby!!

But all went surprisingly well. We got the kids dressed. Made their lunches and snack. Made sure they had their bathing suits and towels. We slathered them with sunblock and made it out the door in plenty of time. We got to the camp. Chris and I signed the boys in . Brought them to their groups. Met their counselors. Gave them kisses, and off we went with no tears, not even mine!

When we hit the sidewalk, I had this sudden feeling of absolute bliss! I was going home. Chris was going to work, and I was going to be all alone, in a silent house. Silence for 6 hours. Well, it wasn't completely silent. There was a gentle warm rain pitter pattering on the butterfly bush outside of my wide open windows. There was a slight breeze drifting the subtle flower scent into the house.

I didn't clean. I didn't think about cleaning. I didn't feel bad about cleaning. I sat and listened to the rain. I read my book. I watched the birds out at the bird feeder. I took a bath. And most importantly, I dozed by the open window. Heaven!!

3 o'clock rolled around and I realised I missed my boys! I couldn't wait to pick up my little angels. They were all thrilled to see me. Thomas insisted on extra snuggles when we got home, which was great! I needed them too. They didn't fight on the way home. They were tired out and watched a movie until dinner. Ate dinner and off to bed they went.

That of course only covered the first day. I'll leave you on that good note and won't meander into the last 4 days of a less than perfect experience. But let's face it, one perfect day is better than none!!

Rain, Puddles, Mud, and Laundry.

I usually don't mind rain or puddles or mud at all. I am actually a very accomplished puddle splasher, mud pie maker, and wild rain dancer. But enough is enough. It's been raining so much that I've thought about building an ark. Of course the thought of having to help rebuild the human race and cleaning up after more animals than we already have does not suit me at all. But besides the constant clouds and rain, there is the laundry.

Laundry is my arch nemesis. I can't stand it. I hate sorting it. I hate moving it from the washer to the dryer. I honestly don't mind folding it, but I hate with a passion having to bring it up the basement stairs, up the stairs to the second floor, and then putting it away in the dressers. So often the the laundry moves from the dirty Mount Laundry to the Clean Mount Laundry with no sorting or folding in between.

Despite all that, I love to hang laundry out to dry. There is something so amazingly invigorating about hanging laundry. Just the process of carrying the heavy wet clothes out into the sunshine totally changes my persective and relieves the drudgery that laundry has become to me. Alas, the rain has hampered that little bit of laundry magic that I do enjoy.

You are probably wondering what the heck the rain has to do with laundry. Well, being so accomplished at rain sports, I have had the pleasure of passing on that skill to my children. Unlike many children who look at the rain as a reason not to go outside, my children look at it as a chance to practice their skills at puddle jumping and mud pie making. Hence, the rain has caused a steep increase in the amount of laundry I have to deal with.

This is not laundry that can be set aside for a sunny day. Oh no. This is soggy muddy slimy laundry. This is the type of laundry that calls enchantingly to mildew. And mildew, being the consummate predator of wet laundry, obliges within the hour.

My pasty white skin and slightly mildewed clothes need a sunny day. I need a day that is sunny, slightly breezy. A perfect day for my children to play outside in the yard with no puddles or mud pie making involved. I promise, if a day like that is delivered, I'll do as much laundry as I can. Deal?