Chris went to Minnesota this weekend to pick up our lawnmower from the Conners' garage, where they have graciously stored it for us until we bought a house. Now we have the house, and the grass is growing like it's on steroids, so it was time to go get it. He took Casey and Darby with him so that I could get some work done. Red Line, the company I worked for briefly before Darby was born, gave me my first writing assignment. They specialize in nonfiction books for school libraries. My assignment is a junior high-level biography of Gloria Steinem. I'm really excited about it.
I've gotten a lot of work done this weekend, and it's been nice having the house to myself for a couple days. Of course I miss my boys and look forward to their return later today. But drinking my tea this morning, I got to thinking about what I really miss about being childless, and it's not much. It's just a little bit of quiet in the mornings. I've never been a morning person. I like to ease into things with a soothing cup of tea and a look at the news sites. When Chris and I moved in together, he infuriated me by blasting songs like "Come On Feel The Noise" at what I felt were ridiculously early hours. I once made him a chart showing examples of what kinds of music he was permitted to play at different times of day. I'm pretty sure he kept it, but not because he was planning on following it.
Oh, I miss those days. Now my day regularly begins at 6:30 a.m. That's when the boys wake up and immediately are all up in my face: "Feed me! Love me! Nurture me! Play with me!" Within seconds of opening my eyes, Darby is demanding a three-course meal and consecutive readings of "Charlie at the Zoo." Casey starts running around happily yelling, "Mom, let's have a blanket party! Mom, let's play Moonbeam Bear's Big Adventure game!" And I just want to be like, "Dude, Moonbeam Bear just wants to go back to bed. Here, take some juice and go watch Dora the Explorer until Mommy feels human." Of course I don't do that (usually). I make breakfast and start the day. And when Chris emerges to head to work, I try not to glare at him for having gotten to shower by himself.
Alas, I take solace in the fact that someday the boys will be surly teenagers who want to sleep in till noon. Here's hoping.
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