My own form of therapy

Back in March, I had a couple of criminals on my hands.  I'll try to keep the story short, but Luke and Audrey had disobeyed and were confined to their room to clean it up.  They apparently didn't like this one bit, and they snuck out their window.  They rang the front doorbell, laughing, and were in even BIGGER trouble than before.  I took garbage bags into their room and starting bagging up everything left on the floor.  This put some real fear in them, so they begged and pleaded for another chance to put their stuff away.  I left them to it and went to dry my hair.  Fifteen minutes later, I went to check on their progress, and they were nowhere to be found.  That's when I saw the policeman escorting them home!  I guess they had climbed out their window again, gotten on their bikes (with no shoes or coats, in the snow) and ran away down our very, very busy street.  The policeman gave them a stern talking-to, and I was as embarrassed and horrified as could be.  In fact, I was very near my breaking point.  When Clayton got home, he decided that we needed a little change.  I needed some kind of a break during the day for my own sanity.  He, very kindly, took me to a gym and signed me up.  Fabulous decision!  The kids love playing with their friends at the "kids' club", and I get a little me-time in the mornings.  There is nothing quite like swimming laps and feeling all your worries and stress leeching out into the pool water.  Also, I started taking a monthly painting class, which I LOVE!  The teacher is great, and he told me I have a lot of natural talent.  I've already completed two paintings, and I can tell that my skills are already improving.  I actually framed one and hung it on the wall, but then took it down when I saw how it paled in comparison to Clay's paintings.  Maybe someday.  :)

Here's to therapy that doesn't involve a shrink or chocolate!  (although I like to employ the latter, too)