I’m alone.

I’m totally alone.

I have a Mother’s Helper at the house taking care of Middle and Little while Big is in school so I can do whatever it is I am supposed to be doing.

There is just one problem.

I have no CLUE what I am supposed to be doing.

Well, I must be doing something, right?

I had this long laundry list of errands and to-dos for when my Mother’s Helper came, but you know what?

Everything felt like busy work.

So, I’m sitting in the Starbucks parking lot, blogging.

No music. No kids. No crying. No yelling over the music or each other. No little eyes watching my every move in the rear view mirror. Heck, I don’t even have a Starbucks!


Heck, I didn’t even pick a pretty spot to sit in which to do nothing! I’ve got trucks buzzing by, people riding bikes, horns honking, sirens whirling…

But I’m alone. No one is paying any attention to me. No one is asking me for an apple, a third breakfast before I’ve had my own, or to help wipe their butt.

It’s strange.

It’s uncomfortable.

It’s awesome.



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