It’s a little after 7:00AM, and still dark out. The clouds are heavy with a freezing rain, or sleet or whatever it is that caused them to close schools today. I’m sitting here by the fire listening to the tapping of rain on the roof and wondering when the kids will wake up…surely not late enough. Except for Henry. Henry will roll out of bed around 10:00. I always did like him best…*
I had planned on getting a lot done today…laundry and bills and putting the final bits of Christmas away. Now I’m not so sure. I think maybe we’ll have another movie marathon and some cocoa. As dampening as another day off school is to the normal routine, there is something so comfortable about having them all here with me. It’s like it used to be. Around 3:00PM today I am sure I will be well-reminded of how it used to be while I am desperately searching for something to eat that is not particularly good for me…frustrating, messy, crumby (and I mean actual food crumbs will be everywhere), loud, whiny and perfectly, beautifully heart-melting all in the same breath. Hard to believe that is at all possible, but that’s life…the beauty is always there, you just have to choose to see it.
Is there anything beautiful about dust, though? I fail at the moment to see any beauty. I’m taking bets as to which child is lucky enough to give voice to their boredom first today. I see dusting in their future.
Hey Mooooooooommmm…what can I doooooooooooo?
*Not actually true. Theoretically, if I did have a favorite child, it would probably be the one that dusted. (Which none of them do.)