I have entered (dum dum dummm . . .) the twilight zone.
There's a strange sort of humming in the house.
(Enter Simon and Garfunkel)
" . . . the sound of silence."
I have six hours without the pitter-patter of little feet today.
Except for Sam (who isn't quite pitter-pattering).
Come 3 o'clock, it's back to the real world.
The crazy-fun (and sometimes not-so-crazy-fun) life of busy, busy, happy children.
I thought in the shower how to make the best use of my time . . . this strange LONGNESS of time . . . semi-alone? I thought about all the things that needed doing. The ginormous laundry pile was folded two days ago. The dishes are done. The house is pretty clean (except my bathroom. It needs a little wipedown). I don't want to spend any money, so I'm not going shopping. I just want to stay home. Hmm.
This doesn't happen
Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to talk to Sammy. I'm going to feed Sammy. I'm going to change Sammy's diaper. And THEN, I'm going to finish one of my all-time favorite movies, North and South (Yes, Richard Armitage, you are quite dashing in all your cotton-mill charm), that I started whilst folding laundry two days ago. Then, I'm going to finish the book on my nightstand.
An overview of Lanette's goals for the day: to fill my mind with thoughts of love (North and South), my soul with the beauty of well-written words, and my heart with the tender love of a sweet, little baby.
Wish me luck. I might have to bang a few pots and pans for things to feel normal around here. And, yet, I'm a little tingly inside, in a good way, thinking about this unusual day of mine.