Missing having kids around, Part 1

The past couple of days, the kids have been at Nana & Papa's (Justin's parents). They live a couple of hours away and so to 'make the drop' we met half-way. I cried nearly all the way home while cursing myself and calling/texting his mom to remind her of little things - little things that really, everyone still would have lived without her knowing. I'm sure she's never been so temped to turn her phone right OFF. I am one of those irritating moms who CANNOT WAIT to have some time to herself and then the instant it happens, moooourns the mourning of the broken-hearted, crying into a tub full of Ben and Jerry's. At least I didn't have to share.

I made cinnamon rolls for breakfast this morning (which I never, ever do, they just looked sooo delicious in the store). And by made, I mean I popped the tube and set the oven. Pioneer Woman should have me shot. So I gave one to Justin along with a smoothie and sent him off to work. 5 cinnamon rolls minus 1 cinnamon roll. Then I ate one. And now I want another one. Or three. I just made a startling revelation. There is no one else to blame for the additional consumption of cinnamon rolls. In my normal life, all of them could easily disappear and no one really had to know who ate what. Now, all by my lonesome, it's painfully clear I alone am responsible for said disappearance of the fatty, sugary goodness. Hey, wait! I have a tiny resident child that I can blame anything and everything on and society will most likely smirk with understanding and acceptance. THANK GOD.