a plane ticket, some gypsies and paradise

It was such a lovely evening, I decided to sit outside and wait for my husband to come home from work. My sitting immediately became laying, and I ended up inside of an open trailer looking up at the sky. I spent hours {ok, it was really just minutes} gazing at this expanse of blue sky swirled with white clouds. I watched as these clouds slowly made their way from the southwest to the southeast above me. They seemed so free. I know that's silly... clouds aren't 'free' from anything... but it was carefree, I guess. As I continued my cloud gazing, an airplane came across my view. It was a jet, heading who-knows-where, but I continued to think about this plane long after it disappeared from sight.

I wondered about the passengers and pilots. I wondered if they could see me laying there watching them {I know they couldn't.. but I still thought about it} and I wondered who it actually was on that plane? Where exactly were they going? I convinced myself it was someplace stress free and beautiful. Someplace far from responsibility. Someplace quiet. I quickly found myself being envious and wishing I could go wherever they were going. It had to be better than where I was.

My day was pretty stressful. My mom came to pick the kids and me up this morning to go shopping. I had a specific place I wanted to go and specific things I needed {wanted} to get done. We spent the entire day out and about. I was exhausted. My mom was exhausted. And all three kids? They were beyond exhausted... and I probably would have given them away. Really? Really. Wrong? Probably. Reality? Definitely not. But I felt that way. It was a long day and I had pushed them to the limit. Over the limit, really. And after I yelled, and threatened, and behaved in such an adult manner {insert laughter here}, I still felt stressed and ready to give them to gypsies.

That was earlier.

But tonight, after our full to the hilt day, an evening of dinner and ice cream at The Udder Choice, jammies and bedtime, I spent some time loving on those kids who I would have traded. I cuddled up to my 8 year old, kissed him all over his freckled face, told him that I loved him and said that he was my absolute "favorite Ethan". I told him how smart, cool, and amazing he was and how wrong I was to yell. I apologized. He told me it was ok. I told him it wasn't.

I walked down the hall into my {not so} little girl's room and told her I loved her and how happy I was that she was born. I told her that if she was never born and I never knew her, my life wouldn't be as full and colorful as it is now. I told her how thankful I am that she is mine. She beamed.

Remind me, why did I want to leave? And why, again, did I even let the thought of not having them enter my mind?

I really don't remember. I'm sure at some point it might revisit and rear its ugly head, but for now, I have the best kids in the world and I wouldn't trade them for anything. Not even a plane ticket to paradise.

They are my paradise.