Alone Again. Naturally.

Yes.  It is part of a song.  Perhaps a title.  I truly, at this moment, don't remember who sang it or wrote it or have a clue what year it came out.  Alas, I have no flipping clue how to do one of those enchanting games and give points in my side bar.  I also, at this moment, after a bit of vino, do not know if side bar is one word, or two.  Do you?  Okay, phewwww, I can still rhyme, a litte. Seriously, re-read that.  It totally rhymed.

It is nearly halloween.  So happy all's hallows to y'all.  Yes, y'all.  It is a valid word.  Regardless of what webster and blah blah may think.

Okay, I'm alone, again.  Love of our life, man of our dreams -- okay the four year old's dreams (one needs to sleep to  dream).  Yes, four year old girls believe that their fathers are the 'it' of all 'it's and it is a lovely thing.  Because, then said father believes he is the it of all its and you as the super-tired wife and mommy, well, you  don't have to do a blooming thing because the man's ego is intact!  She will see to it (daddy's car is bigger, daddy is stronger, I love papa, he is so smart, strong, has more money, I miss him... blah blah blah... nod, yes, yes, yes, he is, I know, I miss him too, sweetheart). 

When I am alone, I realize that I must do every freaking thing under the sun.  Work, pay bills, pick up, drop off, do science projects, create halloween costumes, make home made yummies for school parties, write notes and emails to teachers, fill out book orders, pay bills, do taxes, do homework, arrange after school schedules, ensure children brush teeth and eat semi-healthy, handle pre-tween outbursts and friendship traumas, manage four year old insanity, and deal with sick kids.  Hmmm, did I say sleep?  I don't think so.  Pretty sure that is not on the to-do list.

I think I'm tired.  Alas, however, I'm waiting up for a text to know that our loved one has arrived at destination two or three, or whatever... so then I can sleep for a bit.  And, can wake up and tell lovely children that their dear father is safely in (someplace other than freaking here) and that he loves them and misses them tons.  And, yes, of course, he is buying presents, but due to current airline restrictions, said presents are now tiny... but yes, great things come in tiny packages.  No.  Not like the blue boxes with the white ribbons that mommy likes with the gold key/silver lockets/diamond hearts inside, but more along the lines of a dsi game removed from its packaging.

I know Husbandrinka travels quite a bit and Marinka seems to handle it just fine.  I wonder, however, does her wine supply come in those big kegs they have at the winery? Vinyard?  Whatever.   Because mine just comes in those 750 ML little dinky bottles - and it ain't cutting it.  Or does it seriously get easier when the children are older?  I think I'm going to have to switch to white or start bleaching my teeth.  I'm thinking I need to whine to the housewives!  But, I have some narrowing to do.  Tonight my whine would simply sound like whah whah whah, cabernet, whah, whah, whah, chardonney, whah?

Good news, though: we have made record time this trip before I (ie my bedroom) was totally invaded. In other words, until tonight they were sleeping in their beds.  Tonight, eeek -- they are both in my room!  It is fine.  It is good.  They think it is one big sleep over party thing.  And we will make pancakes and watch Camp Rock or Fairy something or other in the morning... and it will all be good, right?  And will save electricity by all sleeping in one room, right? But, damn, this is a long trip.  Do you think I can convince them this is just a weekend sleepover?  A halloween weekend party?  That ends Sunday at 5 p.m. -- any chance?   Or, perhaps they can come to your house for a few nights and I can sleep and watch an adult show and shave my legs and, ummm, sleep?  Yeah?  Well, call me!

May your ghosts and goblins and fairies and princesses and pirates and vampires and butterflies and ghouls and witches and cowboys and ballet dancers and firemen warm your hearts this weekend!  My butterfly fairy and go-go gal are rocking my world!  Happy Halloween.  (And, if  you know where I put my coffee and my keys, text me, okay?   Hmmm, never mind.  I don't know where my cell is either!  Twitter on and I'll just sit here... alone, again, naturally!)