M.I.A.

I'm busy. Just plain, down-right busy. Back in the days as a newlywed, I was a little worker bee. While my hubby was in flight school, I'd wake up to work in the public school system. When the bell rang, I would run to my car and head over to a group home for kid's and work an eight hour shift until midnight. And on weekends, I'd pick up overnights to make ends meet. Ya know- I went to school to find me a man- and my major never did bring home the bacon. I remember I was making $7.47 an hour- and in Norman, Oklahoma, somehow that was enough to survive.

My mama always said, "There are queen bees and there are worker bees, and I for one, am a queen bee." But I think when it comes down to it, we are all worker bees... and queen bees at heart.:) Women know how to pull through. Whether it's simple things like keeping a child entertained with a pop bottle or something major like reinventing yourself for a new phase of life, we adapt.

Blogger, the program I use to blog, was down for maintenance this week. It was music to my ears... and an excuse not to blog. I'm going at it alone this month while my hubby is in training and ya know what? It feels good. Not that I want it to be this way- and yes I'll be waiting at the door with bells on when the hubz arrives home (maybe literally)... but it's been an empowering couple of weeks.

It feels good to get everything done by myself. I'm doing things I would never do with his presence- like mow the lawn, brush my kids teeth (not that I don't do that, but that's usually daddy ground), and unclog the toilets.

Today, I was on top of it all. I made it to a shoe tying clinic at Nordstrom and my son became a pro shoe-tier- and is quite proud might I add. Then, I realized I had thirty minutes to make it to baseball and I had forgotten drinks for the snack. I rushed to Harris Teeter, improvised and bought a freezer bag, a bag of ice, and a twelve pack of Gatorade. I high-tailed it to the game, put it all together, and called the hubz to tell him how proud I was for my valiant effort... only to hear, "Shelley, we have snack next week. And we don't have drinks, we have food."

Damn.

O.k... so maybe we can't do it all, but I sure have been busy trying. And today, for the first time in foreva... I ate well. And healthy. Hallelujah!

Enough babbling. I'm going to spend my hot Saturday night cuddled with the kiddos. And if I seem M.I.A. for the next week or so, it's not that I'm not trying. Instead of my routine of blogging with my Diet Coke in hand and decompressing, I'm hitting the hay and counting down the moments until the hubby's arrival because I'm pooped. Wow, did I just say pooped? You can tell I'm lacking in adult conversation. But it's all good- I'm enjoying every minute of it, and I know I'll survive.:) Buzz. Buzz.