There isn't anything about my phase of life I would change. Even the hard stuff. God has been abundant in his blessings and gracious in His provisions. However. Given an opportunity to have no responsibilities and excessive time to myself? I'll snatch it up in a heartbeat!
This past weekend, the boys were at "Man Camp" and my mother offered to host a weekend for my girlies, leaving me ... all alone. For the first time EVER I spent a weekend by myself, with no one else around. It was a first in a very big way.
So, I decided to approach the whole weekend in a "firsts" sort of way. A nice mix of kicking my feet up and doing new things.
Friday afternoon. Beginning the adventure of firsts. After reserving and picking up a free pass to the art museum (that we didn't really get a chance to see a few weeks ago) from the library, I headed into the city for my own solo viewing. It was a gorgeous evening to be out. I strolled the museum for an hour or so, taking time to sit and stare. I was mesmerized by an enormous Monet. It was a water lily painting as I've seen many times in print, but in person, I was stunned by the texture and the surprising neon quality to the floating flowers. So electric, yet serene.
But that's where my sedate and sophisticated evening ended.
Right before I exited the museum I stopped in at the restroom only realize, "Gasp! Where did my favorite belt go? Oh my goodness! I took it off while driving, laid it in my lap, and I bet it fell off into the street when I parked and stepped out of the car!" So out I dashed, down three city blocks, to the car in my heels ('cause you know I wore them since I was pretending to be all chic and carefree for the night!), searched the car and the curb and came up empty. "Drat! I bet it could be at the first place I parked, only to realize it was a 30 minute spot and had to hop back into the car and find a new spot."
So, down the street I clippty-clopped, imagining some punked-out skateboarding teenager wearing my darling belt and having to wrestle him to the ground to re-possess it. But, as I neared the location, there it was, all dejected and huddled by the curb. My belt had been waiting for me and cleverly hid itself from the skateboarding masses. I quickly snatched it up, petting it and whispering words of comfort, and scuttled quickly away from the spiky-haired youths who were, most certainly, wondering what the crazy lady on the sidewalk was skulking about for.
Hunting for a belt on city streets? A definite first.
another first for me, sushi. To sum up ... loved the sushi, not the excessive swank.
While the food was delicious and the view and vibrant setting was exciting, it became quickly apparent to me that I was waaaay out of my element and way not cool enough for the establishment. My first cue may have come when my server quite nearly rolled her eyes when I told her I was not ordering alcohol that night and then the second cue may have been giggling to myself realizing that the vintage Grace Livingston Hill book I brought to read, pretty much advertised the fact I was more out of place than a mud-wrestler at a white sale.
By the time the next day had arrived, I was feeling back to my old self and not at all like a figurative mud-wrestler. I spent the day doing a little shopping and general loafing about. However, I did manage to squeeze in another first ... getting my eyebrows done. I've always wanted to do this!
And yes, I know I look kind of mean here. Sorry. It's hard to take a picture of your own face and not show the concentration. Nevertheless, I was quite happy with my eyebrows and I don't think I look overly surprised as I was worried I might. Look okay?
That evening, I changed into some nice stretchy pants and made myself and my eyebrows a nice pasta dinner. I enjoyed my solitary meal and mused that my weekend of firsts had been successfully executed. After I stood up to clear and clean my dishes, I happened to look down and realize ... the pockets of my stretch pants were not at the front where they were supposed to be, but hanging out on my bum instead. Turns out, I ate dinner with my pants on backwards. Apparently, "firsts" can occur without even trying.
My family is home now and I'm quite happy about it. I had a marvelously quiet, tidy, and lonely weekend, but I'm happy to be back in the chaotic swing of regular life. I'm well rested, sporting well-groomed eyebrows and my pants are on correctly. I'm feeling good.