Friday. Alone, but for a sleeping toddler and five snoring pets curled up in various painstakingly-chosen spots throughout the house. Tall glass of ice water on my right, sinful Godiva chocolate bar on my left. Jazz emanates from the speakers. The world is still. Momentarily.
I have spent the day doing a glorious list of "nothing special". A walk down the trail with my son. A mid-day nap. An afternoon viewing of "Beauty and the Beast". A simple dinner of soup and sandwiches. Story time. Bed time. Quiet time.
I need to enjoy every second of this waning freedom, for next week I leave for Boise to take part in Edufest. I come back just in time to celebrate my 3rd wedding anniversary...and then it's off to Idaho again to visit family. Three days after I return, my eighth year of teaching will begin. I cannot believe how quickly this break is going by.
But it's like that now. I remember when each year seemed to last forever. Forever and a day. And now it's seconds. Something to do with having a baby who just seems to be wriggling out of my hands like a salamander (which we saw today but couldn't catch, much to Liam's dismay).
Today's highlights: playing ball in the driveway, dropping everything (literally - it was a full basket of laundry) to run out and watch the Coast Guard helicopter fly overhead - bless them for looping back and flying over again, very low), hearing my son say, "Shhhh...mama...it's nap time," as I faked sleep beside him to encourage him to sleep too, videotaping him blowing kisses...
Couldn't seem to get the video to work right...but listening is a dying art, so maybe this is for the best.