Today was about as ordinary a day as you can get. I wish every day could be like this.
Emma was the first one to wake up, and she colored quietly until she heard me get out of bed. I was hoping to snooze on the sofa, keeping her company without sacrificing any zzzzs. She agreed to snuggle with me for awhile on the sofa (and it was heaven to feel her warm body curled up against mine), but she really wanted breakfast. Her favorite breakfast: cheerios and milk and sugar (added to the bowl in that exact order). She was so polite about asking that I couldn't resist getting the breakfast for her right away. One by one, the rest of the family joined her.
As David caught up on the tv news, we discussed the various tasks we each had to do over the weekend. We both had far too many goals than we could reasonably complete in a weekend, but over the first can of Diet Pepsi, anything seems possible. I read Tomie DePaola's Pancakes for Breakfast to the girls. David showered; I sorted laundry. Then David and Emma headed across the street to paint Grandma and Grandpa's new bookshelves (bought unfinished).
Let me tell you, nothing could be a cuter sight than the two of them, hand in hand, strolling across the street together. Emma was wearing her "smock" (really one of David's discarded shirts; the "short" sleeves brush her wrists and the shirttails reach to the ground) and an old pair of sneakers. She was so excited about helping daddy paint that she practically bounced along the pavement. And she did paint the backs of the bookshelves while David painted the visible parts. He took a picture of her work. I'll post it when he has a chance to upload it.
Amelia cried to see them leave, but almost immediately afterwards, she started hollering, "Mama! Sofa! Nap! Sleep!" I hurriedly stuffed clothing into the washing machine and rushed to the family room. With her cuddled to my chest, I recited whatever I could remember of Goodnight Moon. As I went along, Amelia would pause in her nursing to proudly announce the words she remembered. It sounded like this: "and there were three little bears, sitting ["CHAIRS"] on chairs, and a comb, and ["BRUSH"] a brush, and a bowl full of mush, and a [HUSH] quiet old lady whispering hush . . ." Eventually, though, Amelia grew hot and heavy in my arms, and she fell asleep. Although I had a book nearby, I just dozed off with her, and the two of us stayed cocooned under the sofa throw for hours while the dryer buzzed and buzzed and finally gave up. David came back once, she stirred while we talked, but she didn't wake.
I crossed nothing off my "to do" list today, and I don't care.
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