Irie.

By modern measures, yesterday would be deemed a failure. Rainy mornings are my favorite—more so when I have nowhere to be. The kids long awake, my husband fully dressed for work, when finally he encouraged me out of my slumber.

I sprang up and began breakfast. I knew I had indulged. It was glorious, though. Today would be bacon and pancakes. Sometimes you have to make your own sunshine.

We loved on one another—clamored around the door as dad left for work. That bit our new regular this summer. Some days I’d be ready for them—with summer journals and 2-inch skill workbooks my mom had bought. They loved it. Called it homeschool.

Not today. Today we ate. Then we climbed into our bed. Kid beside me. Little one heaped up on me, flattening me like a pancake. This was fine as long as I could close my eyes. They watched nursery rhyme after nursery rhyme. A lovely haze of them watching TV in bed with me and watching TV in the other room.

My eventual rising was a purposed task—to make lunch and back. It was a glorious mess. And, it would be a failure, right?

No enrichment to speak of. Some would argue the opposite with the TV on all day.

But

I

Couldn’t

Ignore

That I felt so good.

Calm.

Vacation away from the rest of the world. I’d gone days like this before. One snowstorm in Baltimore years ago. Sustained, nourished even, by food, TV and silence. Silence was the most important ingredient. It wasn’t until day 7 or 8 that I slid down the street to see my friend, I needed a little human contact. Reassurance that I wasn’t the last one on earth. My threshold is longer than most. I need more sleep than most.

Traded the sun’s light for the warmth of a day filled with snuggles, in and out of dream-filled haze. They never napped, I did. And there was never a moment when at least one of them wasn’t by my side.

We sang these silly nursery rhymes . Stayed in pajamas all day.

I actually bathed them in the early afternoon— changing them from one pair of pajamas into another.

What a day!

It was like diving into relaxation and resting there. Even still, yesterday seems a bright gleaming success. My bed no longer has that magnetic draw it had on me.

I’m up. Left to get groceries and gas at 6am, while they all slept. Dinner’s in the crockpot. We did pancakes and bacon again—I pray these memories stick in the fall, it may be more like granola bars then. And even if I wasn’t rocking today, Even if I was still piled-up in the bed, I’d call it good.

Rejuvenation.

Hibernation.

Natural-order.

I imagine there’s a time when even bees don’t buzz.

It was nice to settle

Have love all around

Makes me so much better now.