Adjustments

No, they're not for sale.

They are mine, all mine.  Well, and Orrin's too. 

There's been a bit of a hole in our days since these sassy girls have left us to venture into the world of higher learning (thank you, Charter School!).  Porter and I are shuffling activities around, trying to figure out how to fill the hours until our pony-tailed buddies get back home  and Mr. Wyatt is wondering why he doesn't have a gaggle of servants run to him whenever he squeaks. 

But we are adjusting, and I am no longer getting teary-eyed when I come across one of the girls' lipglosses.  Until Orrin pointed out that in one short year I'll be dropping off three children at school and how will I then fill my day?

I answered him by bursting into tears. 

I can still blame these emotions on postpartum, right?

Orrin then tried to make me feel better by reminding me that in five years, I'll get to have the days all to myself and I'll be able to go back to school, take art classes, or just plain lay around if I want to.

He's lucky that I was buried under a (rather large) pile of laundry, or he might have been sporting a black eye at work later.