My daughter’s birthday festivities began on the 14th with her kindergarten spring concert. Although not officially her birthday, she was definitely the focus. Her brother was on video camera duty, following her around like the paparazzi and her Dad and I were both on hand to make sure she knew how amazing she (and her concert) was. Then, because she was at her Dads on her actual birthday, Friday, I made sure to call her bright and early to tell her ‘happy day’ and to remind her of her after-school salon retreat. She had requested a manicure/pedicure and head massage/hair style for her birthday…I didn’t even know what a salon was ’til my late teens, but I just had to make sure she got what she wanted. After school, we headed over to get her princess spa time started–she loved it. The perma-smile on her face the entire time we were there let me know she was in heaven. Plus, afterward her dad took her out to eat and she got to show off her fancy hair, make-up and nails. But that wasn’t even the end of it, her party was the next day.

She’d hoped for an outdoor water party, but Minnesota in May is not always cooperative–despite the 70+ degree weather the previous week, her birthday began with temps in the 40s. We made due with indoor games, music and a pinata. She had tons of fun, but after spending an afternoon with five 6-year-olds, my ex-husband and former in-laws, I was ready for a drink and some relaxation. Luckily I arrived home to my man, who had spent the afternoon at my place working on his bike in quiet peace. He took me out to dinner and made sure I had a fun, relaxing evening

On Sunday I decided I had better start packing for our move on May 29 and clean-up for the kids return home for the week. I was successful at getting six boxes packed, the laundry done and the apartment picked up so it was in a reasonable state. Once I got the kids home though, it was snuggle-o-rama with them–I miss ‘em after their week at their dads (even when I just saw ‘em the night before).

And then it was Monday. Monday’s and Thursday’s are baseball nights for my son. This means that right after I pick the kids up at 5pm, we eat a ‘picnic supper’ and get ready for the baseball game. It also means we will not arrive home until 8:30 p.m. at the earliest, which makes for a long day and tired kids. It is only through the end of June, though, and my son loves baseball, so it’s all good

Now, after that long winded play-by-play of my week, I have to admit that if it wasn’t for my palm centro pda/phone, I wouldn’t know where I was supposed to be, when. I’m reassured by the vibrating reminders 1 hour to 15 minutes before I’m supposed to be somewhere, and whenever I need a phone number or directions, the handy little web browser is right there! Or, if I’m running late, or just plan lost, I can call who ever I need to, as well as tweet my predicaments or observations whenever I choose. Thankful, I am, for my technology.

AND, thankful I am for all the people in my life that not only keep me busy, but keep me smilin’ ;D

We started out with thoughts of food and cocktails in an outdoor setting on our mind. We had an idea of where we would go, but were flexible, just in case things were crowded. After walking for a while, stopping for martini’s and sandwiches, then walking some more and stopping for a couple more drinks, we decided it was time to head home. Now, everything up to this point was fun and an adventure of sorts, but the walk home is where our true adventure occurred.

The beginning of the walk home was pretty standard for us, chatting, making up stories and laughing. We usually end up creating intricate scenarios about the people we see, and at some point aliens always happen into the conversation (yes, I am obsessed with aliens). Once we arrived at an under-construction, yet possible short-cut home, however, the conversation changed to contemplation of our potential endeavor.

What we had come upon was a bridge. And, as I mentioned previously, it was under-construction. In the dark, we couldn’t see well enough to tell from one end to the other if we’d be able to make it all the way across. We could see a large piece of construction equipment sitting in the middle of it though, so that was proof enough for me that it could indeed hold our weight, so we started making our way-until we came to this concrete wall. My man was hesitant and ready to go back and take the long way, but I spotted a ladder-like apparatus in the far corner of the wall–yes, we did decided to climb up.

The first thing we noticed at the top was the instant brightness of a motion sensing light from one of the houses just off of the construction. It kinda’ made us feel like rebels, which we obviously are It also brought me memories of my youth in rural Minnesota, venturing into old abandoned farm houses & barns, exploring under bridges and just daring to enter those places that didn’t belong to me, places I shouldn’t have been, but that were openly accessible.

Although I am a rule follower, I am also one who, if the rule does not seem logical, will ignore it to fit my needs. Even though I knew many of these places were off limits, I wasn’t hurting anyone, so why not? This evening brought me back to that place, a place where my actions were my own. I know it sounds silly, but as a mom, every time I do anything I have to run it through my mental checklist: will this work for the kids, will it affect their schedules, will I be able to feed them if I do that, will they end up in therapy of I do this, etc. But on that bridge, I felt carefree. It was just me and my love, sneaking through where we shouldn’t be, because we wanted to check it out, and really, we weren’t hurting anyone.

Eventually, after squeezing through some metal rods onto a walk way that was obviously used by the workers, we made it to the other side. We were proud of ourselves for not only our cleverness in trying, but also for not hurting ourselves.

I don’t think we’ll be looking for more adventures like this one, but, if the opportunity presents itself…maybe next time, we’ll take my kids with

P.S. Regarding the picture, we also walked pass the Parking Lot Park, a must see if you’re ever in NE Minneapolis

From the front steps of his building, I called my boyfriend, sharing the joyous news. When we got to his apartment I dropped my various bags of stuff and started crying. Crying because I was so stupid, crying because I was going to be late picking up my kids, crying because of the impending loss of money I could not afford to lose, crying…well, just because. This was just another one of those things that always happen, another thing outside my control.

My boyfriend was a bit confused by my emotions, but he gave me a hug and calmed me down. Because he does not own a car (no need to for him), we called a cab and he insisted on coming with me. We anticipated a wait—an Indoor, 45 minute-ish wait. So did the 200 or so people that joined us in line; a line that streamed outside the impound lot office into the 25 degree, Minnesota weather. We got in line, knowing anticipated 45 minutes would actually be 2 to 3 hours, but what else could we do, I live 20 miles from Minneapolis.

I apologized about the situation and told my boyfriend he should go home, why have both of us freeze? I said—he stayed. An hour later, as feeling to our feet dwindled, I told him again, go home—again, he said no. Another hour passed and we knew we had at least one more in the cold before we got into the warm building, so I tried again, but he stayed.

While we waited, I had to call my kids and their dad to tell them I was going to be late picking them up. I didn’t want to call. I wanted to magically make the line go faster so I wouldn’t be late. But not because of the cold, as much as it sucked, but because I didn’t want to call my ex. I didn’t want to get yelled at, laughed at and made fun of by him. And I didn’t want my kids to hear him say what he’d say, even though I know they know better. But I had to; things were out of my control.

Meanwhile, we waited…and my boyfriend stayed. And when it was time to pay the fee, he paid. He didn’t have to stay, but he stayed. He didn’t have to pay, but he paid. He didn’t have to do any of it, but he did.

After I apologized and thanked him for the billionth time in the van that finally drove us to my car, he told me this—I am here to support you because you are an awesome person who deserves support. I care about you and I want to be here, I chose to be here with you.

Sometimes, when life happens and control has escaped me, I learn things; things I should already know. Some people do care about me just because I’m me, not because of anything else.

He wanted to be there. I deserve support. He rocks.

I actually like valentines day, but, it seems that as timing works, it never falls on a week when I don’t have my kids. Now, I do love my kids–they are my kiddie valentines–BUT, It would be nice if me and my man and I could spend valentines together, alone…that would be sooo nice. OK, yes,  I know, babysitter….but see, every babysitter I know and trust has their OWN valentine that they are spending time with on just that day…weird how that works.

I do know one thing for sure. I’m the luckiest ever….cuz puts up with a lot (including not having valentines day ‘off’)…I guess that is part of what relationships are about?

Either way, you can be sure I’ll be doing my best to make up for it later…yes, lingerie will be involved