What Have I Done?

This weekend is Canton weekend- if you're not familiar with a Canton weekend, it's a monthly tradition that means (for me) a full Friday of perusing antiques, crafts, handmade items, and various other odds-and-ends at a huge flea market-type place in the city of Canton, TX. You can find out more about it here or here. My mom is in town for the big occasion, just as she is every other month.

Today she casually mentioned taking the boys to her house with her when she leaves on Tuesday. She and my aunts and uncles have strawberry-picking, crystal-hunting and dock fishing on the agenda over the couple of weeks, should the boys be visiting. The catch is that they won't be coming back until May 17. When she first suggested taking them back with her, my head was overflowing with a multitude of blissful thoughts: no fights over teeth-brushing for 12 days, no struggling to get them to clean their room for 12 days, no early morning wake-up calls to break up fights when I just want 5 more minutes of sleep for 12 days, no backtalking, whining, crying, hitting, biting, kicking, or otherwise physical harm to prevent for 12 days! My heart was quivering at the idea. Jason and I even joked about moving and leaving no forwarding address.

My mom immediately got on the phone to discuss the arrangement with an assortment of relatives. When my entire extended family is expecting the arrival of 2 grand-nephews they only see every few months, I would have lots of 'splainin' to do if I changed my mind. She also clued the boys in on their travel plans, in a no-take-backsies sort of way. It's next to impossible to tell the boys you plan to take them here or there and then neglect to follow-through. The sheer wailing and gnashing of teeth from disappoinment would be enough to drive a sane person to poke her own ears drums out with a blunt object. So in a way, it was a done deal.

It was only a matter of minutes (well, maybe an hour or so) before reality kicked in. My boys are actually going to be gone for almost 2 weeks! I won't have them to hug and kiss on in the mornings for 12 days. I won't be able to lay down in their beds at night to talk and pray for 12 days. I won't hear firsthand their little bits of childlike wisdom (such as Micah's infamous statement, "Mommy, you should never pee on a carrot." He wasn't offering this so much as an admonition but as a preventative, should I ever consider committing such an act, just so you know.) for 12 days. I will miss them painfully for 12 days.

They leave Tuesday. I'll be home simultaneously fighting back tears and having a celebratory drink.