day sixty-five: getting girlie

Living here with my guys is both what I always wanted AND what I always knew I would have. From the time I was in junior high I had dreams about having 6 sons, so every time the ultrasound technician would say It's a boy I would say Yup, I know. And then I would smile, because between the dreams and the whisperings of the Spirit, I already knew.

That being said, I feel a bit of a responsibility to exercise a little estrogen around here every now and then. And yes, I mean in addition to the involuntary exercise of it (and you know what I mean here). So the cravings come for a trip to the salon, for a manicure or pedicure, or window shopping, or time with girlfriends.

You know those people who have to carry oxygen around with them in their little tanks? And every 30 sec or so you hear a gentle puffing sound as it is pushed through the tubes into their noses? Yeah, it is kind of like that for me. Little installments, somewhat regularly.

It has been two nutso-crazy months around here, between returning to school, starting a new job, shipping off boy #2 to BYU and now working with him to get mission preparations going, the recent accident with boy #3, getting home late M-Th, being the bishop's family, etc. We are beat. We are happy and grateful for many many blessings, but we are beat.

So, I am trying to squeeze in some of that girl time (wish I could have a girl's weekend where I got to physically meet all of you) so that I can regenerate. But I keep finding myself wanting my guys to join me. Think that would defeat the purpose?


ps I almost went into panic mode last night when I was unable to access my blog. Some weird error kept appearing and I had to put off my Thursday posting until now, early Fri morning. But for order's sake I have changed the date stamp so that I can have my days and dates line up.

11 comments

Barbaloot | October 23, 2009 at 9:13 AM

I think if the guys do something like bake brownies, get a pedicure or help you window shop---then it's totally legit:)

Kazzy | October 23, 2009 at 9:17 AM

LOL, Barb. I will see how they feel about it!

Eowyn | October 23, 2009 at 10:33 AM

Can I come? Minus the guys. . . I never did get my girl time on my trip.

Kimberly | October 23, 2009 at 11:11 AM

I'm yearning for some girl time too...life gets a bit spinny after awhile without it.

Luann | October 23, 2009 at 12:58 PM

Ditto what Kimberly said. Oh, and I love your push of oxygen metaphor. :)

That Girl | October 23, 2009 at 4:45 PM

I love girls. And my boys. But usually separately.

Connie | October 23, 2009 at 5:12 PM

You don't count the 3 hours in a classroom with 5 litle girls and two estrogen laden techs as girl time? Wait, maybe only 1 tech has any estrogen left. OK, you're right, you need more girl time.

Jenny | October 23, 2009 at 6:32 PM

Way to go girlie time! I agree with Barbaloot. If the guys could do some girlie things with you then that would count towards getting girlie!

wendy | October 23, 2009 at 8:33 PM

Oh I hear ya ---------I haven't had any "girl time" since August 4th. I want a day at the spa, I wanna buy some totally fabulous cloths, I wanna go see a chick flik at the MOVIE THEATRE (the closest theatre to where I live is an hour away)
I wanna giggle----------with the girls

charrette | October 23, 2009 at 10:59 PM

You could probably talk your guys into a good chick flick....

Heidi Ashworth | October 24, 2009 at 8:09 PM

See, now that's how to cope with life--change the date stamp so that things can be in order. Or whatever you have to change in order to keep things, er, in order. Or do-able. On another note, I always feel bad for the bishop's family b/c I think few people ever think about them or their challenges or trials. Somehow, by virtue of being bishop, he and his family must have it all together and not need anything--they are just viewed as a resource. When one of my sister's husband was bishop, there was a big snow storm and people were calling their house to get help--but not one person offered to help the bishop get out of his own house first. Not fair.