Griffin is on a little vacation with Grandma. For the last three years he has gone to spend the week around the 4th of July with Grandma doing fun things, skipping rocks, riding bikes, hunting for frogs, being the center of the ice cream eating world and loving every second of it. So the boy has been gone 34 hours and 15 minutes, I love it for him, I hate it for me. I miss him.

And the crazy thing is that if he was home, because I am an awesome mom, I would probably be frustrated about something, the kids not getting on with going to bed, the tv room being a mess, toys left outside. But since he isn't here all that is happening is my guts hurt and I want to hug him.