A rainy Friday, sleepy day. Literally sleepy. I sit in my chair and snuggle with my baby and sometimes he drifts off and sometimes I do, my eyes doing a slow blink and then I wake and realize I’ve been asleep yet again. A pleasant sort of haze to drift through when nothing is urgent not even the crying of Anthony who is wet again or hungry again.
My sister-in-law asked if she could come by with the kids. That sounds absolutely lovely. We used to live nearby and when I was pregnant with Sophie, Bella would go spend all my OB appointments with them. Now they are an hour away and we don’t get to visit nearly often enough.
Perhaps to some the prospect of having nine kids under age ten running about the house on a rainy day would seem daunting. To me it was just a happy celebration. We ordered pizza and they also brought some munchkins for dessert. (That is donut holes to my non-American readers.) The kids ran around from room to room laughing and shrieking in the way hordes of children do and Ben didn’t even mind when his cousins played with his beloved cars.
I wish we could do this more often. Sure I was drifting off at the end; but the nice thing about having just had a baby is no one thinks you are rude when you fall asleep on them. In fact, they apologize to you.
That’s the thing about being so far away from family. It means that when we do visit we tend to feel like we’ve got to stay forever to make it count. Really though my preferred visit length is an hour or two. And then the cousins go home and my kids go down for a nap and the afternoon lingers.
It is nice to drift through the day with no to do list and no feeling of guilt at the lack. Nothing to do really but put my feet up and recuperate. I know by this time next week I’ll be heartily sick of it. But right now I’m too dopey on narcotics to even care.
Hot tea, good music, and a little boy asleep on my chest. Life is beautiful.