Kidless

October 11, 1999 was the last of my childless days. Birthmom T showed up in court and the judge said okay and we zoomed back to the foster family's house where eight-week-old baby S was staying. Dropped to our knees to pray and cry our thanks -- it had been a long and bumpy road. From then until now I have not spent more than a night away from him. A joined us about 19 months later, when he was only 36 hours old.

On Friday my parents took my kids to Utah. We'll see them in a couple of weeks. The silence is just bizarre.

It's not stopping us from partying, though. We have been out to eat, watched movies without sharing our candy, slept in, gone to the gym at (gasp!) the same time, hiked to the top of Vernal Falls in Yosemite National Park, listened to all the talks in sacrament meeting, and left the church building without chasing anybody around and around and around that infernal circular building. (Thanks a million, church architects. And can we talk about the fact that kids can crawl under the pews and parents cannot follow? A church that emphasizes family so strongly should think about these things.) Back to my list. Eaten Ben & Jerry's out of the carton. Made fried rice without leaving any plain for the pickypoos.

My mom said it would be like another honeymoon. What I didn't tell her, but I'm sure she knew, is that it's a lot better. We've had a little more practice.

And I'm thinking the kids don't miss us. We called this afternoon. S got on the phone. His exact words, all of them, were, "I'm having a good time. Bye!" Abe was a little more loquatious but not a lot. They had to get back to playing Husker Du and making cookies -- at least I thought I heard something about measuring flour.

Hasta la vista, short people (that's what I call my kids). Despite my party attitude, I really do miss you. I'm sure when you come back you'll be a lot taller. Grandma feeds people good.