And, here's how I know: If He did, life wouldn't be so chaotic upon return. It's like you have to pay for vacation by returning to a home that has completely fallen apart in your absence.
Case in point: the last load of laundry in the dryer that has been "fluffed" about 17 times since it went in last Wednesday.
To be fair, this could have less to do with God's feelings on vacations and more to do with "getting plugged in" to our new town. (I'm suspicious that this might be the case, since I tried to make a dinner date with some of our new friends and the first available date we could find was a Thursday in three weeks.)
Whatever the reason, this is what last week looked like:
Monday and Tuesday were deceptively calm. I took lunch to Spencer for making a 100 on his spelling test while we were gone. We got Lulu's hair cut in the "bob" she has been requesting. (Shawn has been requesting it, too, to be honest. I don't think he could bare to brush one more tangle out of his precious baby girl's head. :) Shawn had business dinners so I had to get the kids to bed by myself. (I really think he just does that so I'll appreciate him more... Ass.)
Wednesday began that elusive laundry. And, then...
Thursday my mom came to town. The kids had Fine Arts Night at their school. We saw their art displayed; Spence's class sang. (Well done. So proud. Got to bed late.)
Friday I tootled on down the highway a couple of hours for a friend's birthday lunch. I got home; took Lulu for a "girls' date" (that means we went to The Discovery Center and walked around the park) while I waited to pick Spence up from a birthday party. We took the kids for pizza for Family Date Night. (Got to bed late.)
The next day (Saturday) we awoke to hit the road back down the highway for a wedding. Came home the same day. (Got to bed late.)
We woke for church on Sunday, came home for some Sunday naps (hallelujah!), worked on Spencer's Flat Stanley project, and raced out the door - again - to get to my in-laws' church for a gospel quartet concert to which they had invited us (leaving the Flat Stanley supplies exploded around the floor and living room).
Last night, as we put the kids to bed (late again), stepping over piles of their toys, shoes, and clothes that hadn't made it to the laundry hamper, Shawn looked around and said, "Well, at least the upstair and the downstairs match."
Elizabeth was showing signs of wear this morning. But, I just kicked everyone out the door to work and school. Now I'm looking around at this house/mess/dump sight and wondering what it takes to get declared a Disaster Zone - I'm not so much interested in the federal funding as I am in the volunteer labor and National Guard forces.
Oh well, I guess I better get started. I need to go fluff the laundry in the dryer one more time.
