My kiddos and wifey's have just left to spend a morning with the out-laws (yes, this is a term of endearment :).
I have the whole house to myself. I can do anything I want. I can savour the quiet and the total lack of commotion. I can tackle the mess, which has reached the point of hideousness. I can organize without sticky little fingers disorganizing right behind me. I can head to the garden and get my fingers dirty without having to go on a wormhunt for Boy-o. I can sit on my ass and drink coffee. I could drag my tired ass on a run. I could go back to bed and no one would wake me up. I can blog guiltfree for as long as I want to and noone will tug at my sleeves or legs or heartstrings.
But first, I have to figure out a way to move past that too-familiar, crippling fear that I will never see them again.