I usually spend every weekend with my kiddos. I don’t try to, it’s just life, unless something extraordinary happens. And all of sudden there are three extraordinary things in a row.

First there was a family wedding on the Cape, kids weren’t invited. BYE!

Now there’s a friend getaway this weekend.

Then a different friend group going away next weekend.

And while it’s not ideal to have two friend weekends away in a row, especially after a wedding weekend away, I’m not saying no!

Bye! Bye! And bye again!

The best part of being away is sleeping all night and into the morning without any needy people.

RB is queen of the 4am shoulder tap to let me know she needs to go to the bathroom. She doesn’t require any support aside from wanting to share her experience.

At 4am I’d rather not share any experiences.

The morning of the wedding, I luxuriate in my morning aloneness. Captain meanders out eventually,

“I’m sorry I slept so late.”

Nothing to be sorry about! There were no blood curdling war cries from our children.

We are well into school and are knee deep in activities. RB marched out of swimming very happy.

“I told my teacher I’m 5 and that I’m in kindergarten.”

“Really?”

“Am I?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Almost five. In pre-k. And on a tear.

Mornings are a lottery. Today she demanded one small braid with a green clip, one pig-tail on the right with a pink, furry scrunchie and the hair on the other half of her head just down. I asked,

“Are you sure?”

“YES.”

I put the finishing touches on her wacko hairdo.

She admired herself in the mirror, let out a cackle and said,

“I look like a villain!”

“A villain?!” Does she even know what she’s talking about? “What’s a villain?”

She looks at me like I’m the odd ball,

“You know. Like in the movies.” She slides a pair of sunglasses onto the collar of her shirt and she’s ready.

As far as I’ve been told, my little villain is a somewhat quiet character at school.

The other day at dinner, BB ponders her sippy cup and asks,

“Do 8-year olds drink from sippy cups?”

“Depends on the 8-year old.”

Any item on our kitchen table goes flying at any point. BB has a knack for inadvertently flinging everything everywhere. After a routine breakfast of toast with Nutella it is not uncommon to find chocolate on her ankles, ears, chair rungs, and the wall.

Whole strawberries, pieces of chicken, green beans find cover under my table. BB knows they’ve gone missing, she just can’t be bothered to chase them down.

Liquids are the most exciting. A flying fork does not send me running, but a full chocolate milk sloshing across the dinner table is hard to ignore.

I understand that I’m raising BB to go out into the world without me and if all goes well she will drink from a cup.

I said ok to no sippy cup with a two-spill waiver clause. After two spills, we go back to a sippy. Also I’ve been giving her the shortest, fattest, heaviest glasses we have.

They may not withstand a solid arm swipe across the table, but so far they’ve held up to a few rogue elbows.

Three weekends worth of messes, hair-dos and activities that are not my problem.

And if RB thought she looked like a villain today, I can’t wait to see what she looks like after she gives her hair requests to Captain.

Bye!