My fellow mamas, what would you do with a kid-free, hubby-free weekend?

It was my FIRST weekend away from my big little family. The first time since 2011. No projects to finish. No one’s needs to occupy my mind. No butt-butt to change. Nothing. Nada. Zero. Zilch. Absolutely NOTHING on the agenda.

Deep sigh. I wasted much of the weekend at home laissez-faire but I wanted some action. I need something to remind me of this precious gift of being ALONE. My adventure awaited…

My chosen destination: Meridian Hill Park. Where you ask? In Washington DC, of course. How original you say? Don’t judge me. It’s MY weekend. MY prerogative.

As I parked my car I could slightly hear the beating of the drums. It was a beckoning sound.The anticipation intensified.

I climbed to the top of the never-ending stairs, all fifty of them. Yes I counted them. I could hardly hide my disappointment with the turnout.

Little did I know I was in for a treat and, oh boy, what a treat it was!

It was around 3 in the afternoon. An absolutely beautiful summer day. Nestled above the city, now I could appreciate those fifty steps. A light breeze swayed the trees rhythmically. Shades of blue hugged the skies, not a cloud in sight.

With each passing hour the drum circle grew larger and larger. It was about Five o’ clock now. Things were in full swing. The dancers rhythmically swaying their hips with the beat of the drums. Spectators surrounded the performers, now standing room only…more families relaxing on the lawn on this gorgeous evening.

Meridian Hill Park is the kind of place where you bring a blanket, a picnic basket, some good company and exchange laughter on a Sunday afternoon!

Comradeship.  The unison with which they played. Their raw talents. Novices to expert, huddled in a circle. Young and old. Blacks, Whites, Hispanics, Asians. Indifference set aside…the beating of the drums uniting them. It wasn’t the sound of one trying to be superior; they all played to one beat.

This, my friend, is art! The beating of the drums felt in the depths of your being. Transcending you in time. You couldn’t help but sway your hips, stomp your feet, and bop your head. This truly should be experienced at least once, especially if you are a lover of the arts; but, even if you aren’t this might just very well be the introduction you need.

I can still hear one of the eldest performers, Mr Willie, yelling “Give it all you got. Is that all you got?” In such a playful way encouraging each artist to dig even deeper, if that’s even possible.

They say music heals the soul and for these few hours my soul wanted nothing more than to be engrossed in this moment in time; BUT, my stomach beckoned.

It wouldn’t be me without food, right? I treated myself to dinner at Sequoia while I soaked up the last few hours of being ALL ALONE. 🍷

I should and will do this more often.

~TOODLES~
Stacey

This is the second installation of the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden series. Why would I want to see more, you ask? That’s simple, it’s gorgeous here!

Are you a local and need a getaway? Are you visiting Richmond, VA to get a break from life’s hustle and bustle?

The Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden provides a wonderful escape. You are removed from all your worries, even if just for a little while. The lush vegetation and the serenity the gardens provide is in a class of its own. My little family and I look forward to more adventures here.

From the moment you open the doors you are instantly drawn into the courtyard. There’s so much beauty to behold! The gardens are perfectly manicured, reminding me of my travels of Europe’s countryside.

Enjoy!

Grandma, do you having any wishing money?

Worries disappear….

Don’t be fooled by all this sweetness…

Off on the 100 meter dash with sissy’s purse 😂

All I needed was a book…Who am I kidding…A glass of wine sounds more like it. 🙂

My little CuddleBug..fly, fly butterfly….

Running up and down the hill was one of those moments that I know she will treasure.

Sorry, but all good things must come to an end….well, for now anyway….more to come.

Have a lovely day!

~TOODLES~
Stacey

No that’s not my home. He-he, but wouldn’t it be nice!

You know how you see photos on Instagram and then you say to yourself, oh I bet that’s rarely the case, or its all for show, or with three kids I bet her home gets really messy….seriously though….my house is almost, always clean and organized…Okay, dusting (people still do that?) has become a thing of the past now that I have twins; but I do keep a clean house.

Here’s a peek at my humble abode.

The first two levels are great but it’s that third level that most people don’t see. Well, when we sleep in our bedroom regularly it’s clean.  I think the answer to this dilemma is having guests.  Whenever the guest room is occupied for extended stays….our bedroom is clean and sparkly (as my three-year old says). So who’s coming to visit? I dread cleaning it now, but it must be done. Just not this weekend when my kids and hubby are away. I WILL NOT CLEAN ANYTHING. This is my vow! I’m not even running the vacuum. Lol

This pic doesn’t fully capture the all-encompassing abyss.

The term OCD never existed for me while growing up.  We may not have had much, but we had enough. We had love. We had laughter. We had fun, and tons of it! And we had a clean home.  I was raised with my grandparents in the rural parts of Jamaica and although it was close to a dozen of us in a three bedroom house it was mainly clean (minus the boy’s room, the bed was always made though). Clothes were never piled up on the floor or things laying out-of-place.  The house was always clean including the shiny, cold tile that had to be cleaned while on all fours with a coconut brush EVERY Saturday until you could see your reflection.  Do you even know what a coconut brush is?

Like I said, we had a clean home.  As I’ve grown into my adult years I have realized that I may slightly have OCD tendencies. Okay, maybe more than slightly. Shhhh, what triggered these thoughts was my hubby grabbing three water bottles for his trip yesterday.  He grabbed two off the door (leaving three there) then one from the organized water tray.  I can’t remember if I had grabbed one from the organized tray before he grabbed his, so naturally he’s getting the blame.

When I went to grab a water. I scolded my husband in my mind. I quickly replaced the bottle on the organized tray (making sure the letters were aligned with the others) then grabbed one from the door (The one that had an indentation) and thought, “seriously, who does that?” Isn’t that a sign of OCD?

I hate things out-of-order.  I hate dishes piled in the sink (whew, Lord, deep breaths).   Yes, I know hate is a strong word but I really do HATE it.  If there’s a place for something, for heaven’s sake just put it where it belongs.  If it was up to me, we would live in a VERY modern contemporary (idk exactly what that is. Lol, but I like it) home with secret storage EVERYWHERE and everything white, minus the stainless steel appliances. That will never happen, but a girl can dream.

I have not been clinically diagnosed and no I’m not nearly as bad as Monk.  Having three kids under three is quite a bit to handle but I strive to have a clean home for my sanity.  I literally get discombobulated when things aren’t organized. Like really, I get anxious and feel burdened. There’s something wrong with me, isn’t it?

What are some of your pet peeves? How do you handle it?

Who wakes up and writes about this stuff on their kid-free weekend? This crazy mama.

Thanks for reading 😘

Happy Saturday!!

~TOODLES~
Stacey

FLORIDA here we come!

Big sister took her first flight just before she turned one and she was a joy. The twins will be one next wek! I can only hope I have enough good karma. Am I hoping for too much with two babies and a toddler? Read on to find out.

So we were flying out of the Trenton NJ Airport (another first) at 5 in the afternoon.  The adventures began before we even made it to the gate.  My oldest had a meltdown when she realized we were leaving her carseat behind.  Needless to say, her carseat came along for the flight along with the twins pack and play (their bed while away from home). Those were the only two things that checked in before the terminal was closed.

They told us we had to check our carry on bags at the gate. To our surprise the cost per bag doubled from $30 to $60!! With five passengers that’s $300. Almost half the cost of our plane tickets. On top of that we would have to pay $300 to return home. Of course we refused to pay. In the end we paid $30 for the oversized carry on. Walked outside, up the stairs and boarded.

You know those passengers who you hate because you’ve been sitting there buckled up ready for takeoff impatiently waiting. Yes that was us but at least they didn’t page us over the intercom. Wheels up? Not yet. With myself, mom, the twins and the passenger already seated in our row another problem. Only four oxygen masks are alloted per row. She was reluctant to leave. Thanks to the gentleman across the row who switched seats with her.

FINALLY it was time for take off. By this point it felt like I’ve ran a marathon. I had a deep breath, said a prayer and we took to the skies. The twins did great. Having the empty seat really helped. If we could be so lucky on our flight home.

Did the twins behave on the return flight? It was a night flight.

How did we handle our baggage probblem?

Tell you all about it soon.

~TOODLES~
Stacey