Flyin' solo

Isaak left for Mississippi yesterday...and after two days of bad weather, car problems, and flying licorice out the window from sheer boredom just to see if it could whistle....he is there.

And we are flyin' solo for the next little bit.

Which is fine. We don't like it. No one does. But you make do, ya get into a routine, find your solo mojo and keep on keepin' on.

It's just on days like today that I run into dilemmas with this whole flyin' solo business. Where having a routine, staying patient, keeping the kids alive, taking out the trash, being a mom and a dad and handling all the stuff that comes with doing life alone....is the least of my problems.

This afternoon I went grocery shopping with the girls after church, something that we normally do as a family, and as I reached up to grab my yogurt, which was oh so conveniently located on the top shelf...

....I couldn't get it. I couldn't reach my yogurt! Like, at all. No amount of stretching, tippy toeing, using the old pen from the purse trick to pull it forward, or gently resting my feet on the bottom ledge could get me that yogurt!

Do they not know short people eat that yogurt too?!

After someone came along before me who also had an apparent liking for Strawberry Thick n' Creamy Yoplait Yogurt and grabbed the front two containers...no one nicely came along and pushed those back three rows forward.

I mean, I just ain't tall enough in all my whoppin' five foot one inch glory to reach that far.

Something that Isaak (or rather any person of a decent height) could do without blinking (or pulling a muscle). Something small and insignificant, that he does, that I take for granted, until he's gone and can't do it for me anymore.

It's little things like that, that I seem to notice the most while he's gone. I notice and miss the big things too, of couse...but those little things that are so easily taken for granted each day, come back to me the most.

Like yogurt on the top shelf, stubborn lids on spaghetti jars, closing the garage at night, (having someone around to look at me like I'm crazy while telling me that I'm not, because I left my band-aids on too long and my fingers under them turned freakishly white and I think they're somehow dying and may need to be amputated.) Ya know. Stuff like that. :~)

So....note to self for all future shopping excursions while Isaak is gone.....

-wear high heels. Really high high heels. There is no hope for me reaching the top shelf without them.

-and don't buy the cheapest band aids. They will turn my fingers freakishly deathly looking white.

Here's to flyin' solo and maintaining sanity and grace till Isaak comes home!

(at our favorite Saturday night summer spot at Aksarben Village, playing in the fountains, rolling down the hills, listening to music and soaking up the summer.)