Nearly noon and I’ve been up just over two hours. Day three of “snowpacolypse” and the second of two days of school closure for both my daughters and me. Thanks to the interwebs, there is much I can and should be doing for work, but there is a rebel within who says: rest. Middle daughter says things like “I’m glad: you really needed a couple of days off.” This she says to me straight-faced even though I just returned from a week in Hawaii with her father. A week taken away from the busiest and best time at work: January intensives. But she is kind-hearted and gives me room to be slothful, knowing it is a temporary state. Knowing, too, that my slothful state usually ends in some sort of baked or sugary goodness. Her kind-heartedness may very well be, then, self-serving.
I am blessed. I have good work that keeps me interested. I am married to a man who takes seriously his responsibilities to his family and our future, who, mostly, has a great sense of humor, and who loves me. I have three daughters who make me laugh and who show, sometimes only in glimpses, that they are smart, caring and thoughtful future-women and that they will be each others’ best friends as they grow up and move out. I already find myself missing them–a statement I didn’t think I would ever see myself make.
Yes, the house is dirty and, high on my list of things to do today, is vacuum up the cat hair and the tree bark those girls tracked in when restacking firewood in the house. I’m staring at my “to-do” list for work as I type and know I am behind and people rely on me. And still … the snow day mentality beckons. Homemade chicken pot pie, perhaps. Or slow-cooked chicken and risotto. Maybe even some Pre-Game Caramels with supplies left over from Christmas.
But first, I guess, a shower. A small step to begin combatting the slothfulness. Perhaps.