Perhaps I should call it "just call me slave"

Time seem to be speeding by. I don't think I've seen a news cast in months. I know I haven't picked up a needle and thread (except to sew on a button on some one's pants) since before Christmas. And I'm seriously behind in posting. I'm beginning to think my new blog should be called "Just call me Slave" instead of "Just call me Woman". You would not think adding one child could take up so much time, but wow - time seems to slip through like water in a colander.

I often think back to the activity that our trainers shared with us in MAPP class about rejuvenating ourselves and making sure that we can fill ourselves up so that we can fill up our foster child, but the question is "When?". When should I do this? By 8:00 pm I'm yawning wondering when bedtime is. How can I rejuvenate when I can't even get my chores done?

I steal moments to read as I wait in doctor's waiting rooms or as I am waiting for school to get out. I've even reverted back to books and magazines in the bathroom (just 5 minutes please).

I was hoping to get a rare treat this weekend when DH and the boys were traveling to go Cod Fishing in RI. DD and I were all set to have an all girls weekend. We even took out four movies, have our books stacked, and have the recipe for a great foot bath. But the Cod fishing trip is now questionable, clouds are looming on the horizon and waves are rising in the sea. The boat may not go out. I don't think I have ever been so disappointed in a cancelled trip - especially one I'm not even going on. My husband is not sure what to make of my excitement for his absence, but truthfully it is not his absence that I'm looking forward to: It is the freedom to do some of the things I enjoy doing if only for the weekend.

If any of you know the anti-rain dance, please start dancing now. The slave wants a weekend off.