Bonjour!

Bonjour! There you have it. The extent to which I know the French language. How far do you think this will get me? Probably not any further than a few people rolling their eyes or maybe if I am lucky a reluctant smile.

It is 5 am and I cannot sleep. My husband is taking me to France today....Paris to be exact. I laugh as though words roll off my finger tips. It seems like a dream, a fantasy. Something that though the bags are packed, the tickets bought, the grandparents in position for babysitting, that I still do not believe. To fully grasp the ridiculousness of this, you should know that I have never been anywhere like this before. I only recently went to New York City for the first time as a 30 year old woman. I was a fish out of water and certainly the same will hold true for this experience. Only now, I do not speak the language...not that I really spoke the language of the New Yorkers.

I slipped on over to the world of chatting at the sky this morning and she got me thinking. My new normal has been normal for 7 years now. My "fuzzy remember whens" are time alone with my husband. It doesn't happen often with three kids around the house and we both like it that way. They are our normal, and that is as it should be. But those "remember whens" were sweet times too, and I am having to tell myself over and over again that it is okay to be leaving. It is okay to be taking a vacation with just my husband that does not involve 6 days of pre-packing for 5 people and a dog. It is okay to remember when, to spend time alone, to jump back in time and pretend it is just the two of us for a few days. The icing on the cake is that we get to do it strolling the streets in Paris.

So now that I have convinced myself of this, I intend to continue pretending until I return home. I intend on pretending that I am much more fashionable than I really am, and wear clothes that I would never wear while in the United States. I intend on wearing my lipstick a little brighter. I plan on eating meals intended for people much classier than me. My idea of sophisticated food is buying the Hebrew National hot dogs rather than the Ballpark; seriously, I do not do fancy food...but on this occasion I will pretend. I intend on walking through museums and pretending that I know the artists whose work is hanging on the wall. I intend on getting dressed up and having dinner on the champs de elysees and pretending as if I know what that is. My sister the photographer will be there too, and I intend on treating her like my own paparazzi.

So until I return, how about leaving me a comment that will make me feel better about abandoning my children, but more importantly, bless me by hearing your story of romance away from the kids. I am desperate for someone to relate!

Caroline, Did you know...

Dear Caroline,

We have been searching for your CD for over a year now. By now, you really cannot even remember what the songs were on the CD, but you do know that you had a CD that has been lost. The CD is special because it sings your name in the songs. Every time we listen to Ella's CD, you ask where your CD is.

A little grace was poured out of the sky as we drove to your first day of preschool. We found the CD! Not only did we find it, but it was right in the center console of our car. This is impossible! We have looked there...many times! But behold, there it was, your "Caroline CD", just waiting to be played as I drove you to your first day. I believe with great certainty that God hid it from us until the perfect time, the time He knew we both would need it most.

And so we sang....

"Caroline, you're special, God wants you to know.
He will be with you, wherever you go.
When you get worried, or when you get sad,
He will cheer you up, and make you glad.

Caroline do you know, Jesus loves you?
24 hours a day, He's thinkin' of you.
Jesus is your friend, His love will never end.
Caroline do you know, Jesus loves you?"

I cried, you beamed, life was as it should be. God's specialty is blessing us when you least expect it. He is so good Caroline!

Love,
Mom

Some kind of wonderful

Finally... quiet. I've been waiting for this. The girls are back in school. The eldest has been back for several weeks now, and our second born has been asking daily when she gets to go to big girl school. Well now it is here, she gets her wish, and I get mine. Right? I have been saying for weeks now that I was ready. Ready for the girls to be back in school and for a routine to begin again. Not because I do not want them around of course, but there is just so much to do and so little time. It's hard doing all of that "to do stuff" with three children.

And so the routine is back, just like I wanted. So why is everyone happy and content but me? Why am I standing in the doorway of the playroom wishing I were watching the girls put on their princess crowns and shoes? Why am I sad to be cleaning up the mess they left in the playroom? All I am doing is wishing it were still messy. Who cares if it clean? It is not supposed to be clean! It is supposed to have two little girls in it, and it doesn't. Just me.

Life with these two is precious. It's glittery and sparkly. It's full of drama and play. It's lovely and promising and hopeful and innocent...all the kinds of things that life should be with two little girls in the house. They are some kind of wonderful, and now they are spending their days somewhere else. What a treasure box our homes are as mothers, and now my treasure box is a little quieter. I wish is wasn't. The chairs in the playroom are empty, and I wish they weren't. So for now, Thomas and I intend to sit expectantly in them until their rightful owners come home.