and so our vacation begins...

A leisurely morning... because after the vacations of my youth, planned with military precision, I would have it no other way.

A two hour car ride that meant two hours to chat with my husband as the kids watched a DVD in the back.

An afternoon of glorious sunshine and gentle sea breezes perfect for rocking in the hammock and walking along the field picking wild flowers with the girls.

Blowing dandelions and making wishes...
... I wish it was always summer...
... I wish I got to have ice cream every day...
... I wish my girls a lifetime of happiness...

Chilled wine waiting in the fridge and dinner off the grill.

Another glass of vino while my husband cleans up two tired girls and tucks them in to bed.

Wireless Internet and ocean views.

Ahhh... and so begins our Cape Cod vacation. Not exotic. Not an adventure. But a part of every summer for as long as I can remember.

Sunset over Provincetown, as seen from our deck. The only picture of the day since the rest was spent blissfully camera free.

romance gone wrong

So we had it all planned out. The girls were sleeping over at my parents house. My husband and I were going to do some shopping, followed by dinner with friends and a comedy show.

Dinner was delicious. I heard the comedy show was quite funny, but I will never know because I managed to trip on a cement parking barrier in the parking lot and fall flat on my face in quite dramatic fashion, cutting my face, hand, knee and toe. Miraculously, my favorite shoes survived the ordeal without a scratch.

So much for romance.

My husband spent the rest of the night cleaning and bandaging my cuts and sitting up with me through not one but two old Ben Affleck movies just to make sure I did not have a head injury.

And our child free Sunday? I spent it on the couch with a bag of frozen fruit on my swollen eye while my husband did the grocery shopping and the laundry.

My mother sent over brownies and her homemade chicken casserole. The girls made adorable Get Well Mommy cards. My husband brought me flowers.

Today, I slept until ten o'clock and I am again resting on the couch as my sweet husband handles the school run, diaper changes, meals and activities for the day.

Forget romance, this is the closest I have come to actual time off in five years.

my valentine

Last night I lay down on the couch, exhausted after a long day and several long nights.

A few minutes later, my husband came down stairs and started doing the dishes.

"Just leave them there and I will do them in the morning", I said

"We are a team," he replied

"Yes, but the kitchen is my thing and I will feel guilty laying here if you are doing dishes." After all, he gets up even earlier than I do and works all day.

"We are a team," he replied firmly, loading up the dishwasher and washing out the pans.

The truth is, my husband does the majority of the cleaning in this house. I pick up after the kids and do the occasional vacuuming, but he is the one who does the real cleaning. And the lawn mowing and snow blowing and garbage collecting and the fixing of broken things. He makes breakfast on Saturday morning and often dinner on Saturday night. Oh, and he is also the financial provider.

I do the majority of the cooking and the child care, the actual paying of the bills, the laundry, the shopping, the planning, the scheduling, the organizing of the house and the kid's activities.

Hum, how is it that my list is looking shorter than his?

But the bottom line is we are a team. I sleep in on Saturday, he sleeps in on Sunday. I put one girl to bed, he puts the other to bed. This is how our marriage works. This is how we survive a life filled with too many messes, not enough time, not enough sleep and two always beautiful but often infuriating little girls.

And while I cherish the memory of the romantic dinners, frequent trips and expensive presents that filled our pre kid days together, I can not imagine anything more perfect for me now than this life.

his and hers

My Sunday:
Wake up with the kids at 7AM. Serve breakfast. Clean up breakfast. Attempt to distract children with TV. Assist children with art projects and dress up when distraction does not work. Serve snack. Clean up snack. Play some more. Serve lunch. Clean up lunch. Put baby down for nap. Take shower. Get two children ready for a birthday party at the jungle gym. Spend two hours in a small gym filled with hyped up kids, attempting to make small talk with other moms I barely know. Return home. Cook diner. Clean up dinner. Provide baths, books and bedtime snuggles.

His Sunday:
Wake up at noon. Watch a little SpongeBob with Abby. Take a shower. Pick up brother and father, and then go to Foxboro Stadium to watch the Pats game. Eat, drink, watch football and return home after children are sound asleep.

Surely, this must earn me some good wife points??

daddy's princesses

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

My husband is a fan of boy things. Growing up with a brother, he played boy stuff. He is a huge sports fan. He enjoys video games. He plays the drums. He can build things. He can fix stuff. He owns power tools. He knows about cars.

His preferred activity on a Sunday afternoon is relaxing on the couch watching sports.

Our girls, however, have slightly different interests.

So on a recent rainy Sunday with Mommy out of the house, what did Daddy and the girls do? They had a dress up party. A party that included makeup, manicures and pedicures for each girl.

No question about it, these are Daddy's princesses.