Too much fun, what’s that mean.

Lately, the kids and I have been having a lot of fun.

Two weeks ago, we took a trip to the zoo with Addison’s school. Both kids enjoyed themselves and loved seeing the animals. They were both able to feed the giraffes, walk around the petting zoo and run wild when there were not too many other people around us. Ethan amazed us all with his stories about Lemurs and Addison screamed “Roo” every time we walked past something that bounced. By the end of the trip, I was making mental notes about various other zoo’s I would like to take the children to this summer.

Last week, I took the kids to our local park. We had hours of fun up town at the park and Ethan made a new friend, who politely informed me that he would be there every Wednesday afternoon. I watched Addison try to climb up the slide the wrong way, Ethan jump from fort balconies and both kids laughing from sheer excitement to be there. Our park is nothing magnificent, but it is a very nice park still. There are lots of things for children Ethan’s age and up to do, which is great, but for the younger ones, not so much.

Taking the kids to do something special each week is a big goal of mine right now. With them gone on the weekends and me gone all day long on Tuesday and Thursday’s, I feel as though I am missing out on a lot of their life. And the guilt of being gone haunts me every time I apply for a job. I am literally developing stress wrinkles (oh, prototype 37c. how i need you.) and stress lines. I just have to keep reminding myself that several single mothers before me were able to do it.