This weekend I had thoughts

If I told you what I did this weekend, you would probably just yawn and call me a loser because I did NOTHING (beyond the traditional weekly visit to Target of course). And can I just say I’m proud to be a loser. It is fabulous.

After over a week of schlepping suitcases, two strollers, dirty laundry, diapers, two car seats, two children who sit in the car seats, bags of snack food, bags in general, a cranky Husband, important papers that cannot be lost no matter what, the Husband’s fanny pack, and my tired weary body, it was a joyous occasion when I could unload all THAT at various points in our cobwebbed home and just sit there staring off into nothingness (for as long as the kids would allow). Sometimes nothingness is good for the soul, especially when this particular soul has an unhealthy desire to have constant somethingness. Am I the only one who suffers from this?

Anyway, I let myself bask in this soupy state of mind all weekend. It was a little self-indulgent and lazy, I’ll admit, but I also did a lot of thinking. I don’t do that too often as it usually leads to me doing strange things, like starting a personal blog, or that one time I thought about sewing . . . something.

I thought about how great our vacation actually was despite the weariness that has now set up shop in my bones, and possibly my organs.

I thought about how great it was that my sons finally got to meet their great-grandmother, and how Bosco thinks GG’s house is just over yonder.

I thought about how it might be nice not to realize how far away GG actually is, and to have a totally warped sense of the space and time continuum.

I thought about how the next time I pay for a hotel room and find “no-no hairs” all over the bathroom floor, I will not swallow my pride. I will make a fuss. I will listen to that inner me because COME ON!

I thought about honeysuckle and lightning bugs, and how strange it must have been for the people who looked out their window one warm July evening and saw the silhouette of a lunatic redhead darting all over the neighborhood, into people’s yards, and into the middle of the road, trying to catch the one lightning bug that was still in existence.

I thought about deodorant, and how I would have to change my ways if ever I lived in a place where sweating is involuntary. As it is now, I live in place where sweating is more or less voluntary.

I thought about the mature in years lady who sat directly in front of us on our first flight, the one who turned around and glared at our child and us whenever fussiness ensued. I thought about how she was just lucky she wasn’t with us on our last flight because if she had been, I’m pretty sure she would have given herself a headache with all those eye rolls, and the smack to her face I wouldn’t have been able to control.

I thought about how I probably never would have actually smacked her. Words are much sharper, and less likely to get me arrested.

I thought about the young man returning home from an LDS mission who was on our last flight, who listened to a much more than just fussy baby and still had enough compassion leftover to ask me, after landing, if I and the baby were okay, without an ounce of hostility or ugliness in his countenance.

I thought about how I should have gotten his number . . . for my sister who is single. Duh.

I thought about how grateful (I guess that’s the word) I was that an unexpected visit from my monthly friend came just as I was exiting our last and final airplane. Any sooner and I would have been fully unprepared and pissed.

I thought about how again I am grateful (that’s the only word that comes to mind), that Bubba vomiting and my left arm being completely enveloped by baby barf, happened in the comfort of our own home, and not whilst on an airplane. Because that truly would have sucked.

I thought about how I should stop doing all this thinking and just enjoy cuddling my sick baby while he’ll let me, and before he passes the bug onto me.

Cue end of thinking session.

Any thoughts?