On November 14th of this year, my oldest child will turn 9 years old.  With the exception of six short weeks, I have had at least one child in my care 24/7 for almost 9

(For six
glorious weeks at the end of my pregnancy with child #3, I had child #1 and child #2 in preschool 3 mornings a
week, and I got a taste of freedom.  But that time
was short lived, and I couldn’t enjoy it to its fullest considering the
fact that I was 8 months miserably pregnant and also house hunting at
the time.) 

I have loved every minute of being a mom.  Okay, so not every minute — but at least every other minute.  As much as I love being at home with my kids full-time, there are times that I could use a little me time.  I’m sure you can’t imagine why.  (And could I use the word TIME any more times in one sentence?)

Last spring I debated about what to do with child #3.  She will turn 3 years old in October, so I could have saved a few pennies and kept her home with me for another year.  But I knew her independent nature, and I could see her eagerness to join her sister in preschool every time we dropped her off, and I also knew how glorious it would be to have a few mornings to myself.  So I enrolled her in a 2-day preschool program.

And on September 4, 2008, with the exception of the brief earlier noted exception, for the first time in almost 9 years, I had all my children in school AT THE SAME TIME.  And I found myself with 2 and 1/4 glorious hours to myself.  (Yes that 1/4 hour counts.)  TWO days a week.  EVERY week.  I feel like a new woman.

I’m learning to guard those precious hours.  I try not to waste time doing things I can easily do with a soon-to-be-3-year-old in tow.  One morning I just came home and blogged and read blogs.  For two hours.  In total peace and quiet.  I KNOW!  One morning I went to Target and wandered the aisles blissfully ALONE.  Do I live on the edge, or what?

Yesterday during my two hours of freedom, I met a friend for a walk and then we had breakfast at a cute little cafe nearby.  When I walked in and realized there was no need to grab a high chair, no need to cut anyone else’s food, no need to accompany anyone else to the bathroom, no one to interrupt our adult conversation (or for whom to censor our conversation), I swear I could hear Aretha singing.  It was glorious.

So in other news, who watched Dancing with the Stars last night?  I do believe my prediction was correct.  Jeff Ross was sent packing, and poor Kim Kardashian was the last to dance.  I’ve never seen her reality TV show, but I felt her pain.  She looked so uncomfortable and reserved.  That’s EXACTLY how I’d feel in her shoes, and good gawsh, did they have to make her dance to Baby Got Back?  ACK.

Some major improvements for Susan Lucci and Rocco.  And while Toni Braxton is adorable, all this drama about her heart condition makes her very unenjoyable to watch.  I found myself breathing out for her the whole time she was dancing.  I’m sure she would appreciate that if she knew, don’t you think?

Misty May did well again.  I’m still in her corner.

I know one thing.  If Cloris Leachman doesn’t go home tomorrow night, I might have to boycott.

That’s all.  TTFN.