flower beds without weeds
cherry coke zero, in a glass with ice and a straw
a good book
homemade cookies just out of the oven
my kids laughing
sleep
my baby's smell just after his bath
freshly cut grass
fruit salad
a clean kitchen
the beach
laughing until my face hurts
vacuum lines in the carpet
cuddling
listening to my husband cooking breakfast with the kids
and you?
Me: "Ellie, your job is to put the silverware on the table. Grace, your job is to put napkins by everyone's plate."
Grace: crosses her arms "I don't want to do a job."
Me: "Sorry! Everyone has to do a job. That's part of being a family."
Grace: hands on hips "Well, what's your job, Mom?"
Are you kidding me? If she has this much attitude when she is three....
Lately I've been feeling like I need privacy.
Ironic, yes, talking about privacy to the Internets who I blab about my life to almost daily, but stick with me here.
Its having three kiddos, one of whom is a baby who wants to be in my arms every waking moment, two of whom are preschoolers who see a closed door as an invitation to barge right in. Its having my in-laws living with us for going on three months now. Its having something social on the calendar practically every day. Its looking at our schedule and seeing it booked for weeks ahead.
And I love my family. I love my kids, my husband, my in-laws, my friends. I love our full life.
I just am feeling the need to be alone. Ideally, alone in my house since that is my favorite place to be. Soaking in a bubble bath, sipping a glass of wine, curling up to watch a girly movie in my pjs, perhaps while eating some ice cream. All uninterrupted, in quiet. But realistically, I'd just love an anonymous day out. Sitting in Barnes and Noble, sipping coffee and reading a gossip magazine, I mean an intellectual-type book. Browsing through the mall with no stroller or kids in tow. Just some time to be alone. Not talking to anyone, not taking care of anyone, not having to stop what I'm doing every three hours to nurse a baby. Just gloriously alone.
Sigh. A girl can dream.
Ellie was mad. She stomped into her room and slammed - slammed - the door.
I got Grace calmed down. Then I went to talk to Ellie about being angry, loving her sister, blahblahblah. But the door was locked.
Locked.
Maybe it was an accident, I think.
"Ellie, open the door, please."
Nothing.
"Ellie, open the door."
Still nothing.
"Ellie, you come open this door right now."
No response.
Oh, my five-year-old did NOT just lock me out of her room on purpose. I don't think so, Dearie.
So I get the key and unlocked the door.
Boy, was she surprised when that door opened and Mama walked in.
Deesis Mosaic (The Last Judgement)
(This was a church that was converted into a mosque.)
