Monsters aren't the routine

What a difference a week makes. Last week I was barefoot and swinging in a swing with a little boy or two in my lap. Today it is a balmy 15 degrees Fahrenheit, there is snow on the ground, the car door was frozen shut yesterday and there are no little boys in sight.
Last week I was listening to a little girl, newly turned six years old, singing Jingle Bells, Batman smells . . . for almost an entire hour on the way home after we picked her up from school. Luckily she varied the words and tempo. It was a treat to hear her sing in slow motion followed by a high speed version. This week I listened to oldies on the radio and nobody sang in slow motion or varied the words.
Last week I ate Cap’n Crunch for breakfast after fixing frozen waffles for whatever assorted children happened to be in the house that morning. Then I fed the baby a jar of strained food I found in the cupboard. Halfway through breakfast the baby would grab the spoon so he could cover his face and hair with the gooey stuff. I think he thought it was some kind of organic moisturizer to keep his skin soft. This week I fed the cat after fixing a bowl of hot oatmeal for myself.
Last week I slept on the couch, once with a little girl at my side. This week I sleep in a bed with a cat on top of me.
Last week I spent time in a cardboard box hiding from monsters. I think we were playing hide and go seek. When I asked what we should do about the monsters, the two-year-old whispered, “Don’t hurt them.” The fact that half of me didn’t fit in the box was irrelevant. Then he whispered that a T. Rex was outside the box and I should shoot it. So I shot it with my invisible gun. It is a good thing I did, because then I was informed that a “yittle” blue monster was in the box with us and it was also hiding.
This week I was busy putting away the last of the Christmas decorations, unpacking, and getting back to my usual routine. We have started working on the remodeling again and expect to be finished sometime before the beginning of the next century. I have taken the paperwhites and one of the hyacinths out of the refrigerator so they can begin awakening and possibly blooming in a few weeks. I have opened up the mushroom growing kit I received for Christmas and am following the directions so that in the promised 10 days I can harvest fresh mushrooms from a cardboard box full of used coffee grounds.
I miss the kids. I miss how their faces light up when told that Mommy or Daddy is home. I miss cuddling a crying child who got stepped on while on the trampoline and her little brother patting her back and telling her she is all right before offering to kiss it and make it better. I miss doing craft projects with little girls. I miss being asked to draw eyes on a cardboard butterfly and then having the child obliterate said eyes with gobs of paint.
On the other hand, it is nice to not be responsible for anyone other than myself. It is positively wonderful to sleep in my own bed again. I like knowing where everything is and being able to go to the store without worrying about getting lost. I like the fact that prices here in Portland are cheaper than in Texas; except for gas, of course. I even like fixing supper with familiar recipes and ingredients. Plus it is nice to know the likes and dislikes of household members so I don’t end up in a food war with a child who will eat macaroni only if it is a specific shape
There are advantages to everything. I may not be hiding from monsters or playing on a swing but I am making progress on several projects I started last year. It may be cold, but that makes the spring that much sweeter. Things are different here and that is not a bad thing. Besides, we can always talk on the phone and plan our next visit. And there are no yittle blue monsters in our house. Yet.[[In-content Ad]]