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Browsing Tag: slowing down

Because the Mountain Will Always be There

Saoirse was home sick from school today, which meant no basketball practice for her tonight. David was off to Connecticut for work for a couple of days, so I held court at home, getting water and making eggs-in-a-nest and kissing warm foreheads. I snuck in some writing, but today, I did a lot of…sitting. And it was okay.We picked up Quinlan from school later this afternoon, and the ride home along the cold, wet streets was calm. Even Cian was quiet, for the most part, and Quinlan and Saoirse were tucked into the books they keep in the car. Back home, the simplicity continued: homework was out of the way early and kid pajamas were on by four. By 4:30 I’d abandoned plans to cook a chicken soup and placed an order for Panera delivery (one upside to living within walking distance to allllll of the chains). By 5:30, the kids had eaten, dinner had been cleaned up, and we were all under blankets in the living room, with a fire roaring and a candle lit and Ella Enchanted playing on the TV. Like Quinlan said, it was easy to…

You Know the Cliche

Cian noticed the tulips in their vase on the kitchen island and stopped his play. “When are dey gonna open?” he asked me. I looked at them, perfectly shaped, as they must have been all week. I couldn’t say for sure: I’d picked them up for six bucks at the grocery store on Saturday and really hadn’t noticed them since. “Maybe tomorrow, buddy,” I said. “It happens slowly.” “Can I see dem?” “Sure,” I replied, and picked him up to set him on the counter beside the flowers. Nervously, I circled, staying close, because even though I had a bunch of things to do and the chances of him falling off and cracking his head open were slim, you know. I’m not one to assume. But he sat there for the longest time–come on buddy, I have STUFF to DOOOOO–and other than when he kept calling out, “Don’t take a pictchah of me! Stop LOOKING AT ME!” he was really happy to just…watch the tulips. “When are dey gonna open?&#8221…

That’s a Bunt

Whenever I write these posts, I try to keep in mind that I’m doing this so that 20, 30 years down the road, the girls or David and I can read them and get a good idea of what life was like way back when. Yes, I realize that I’m assuming none of us will have anything better to do in 30 years than sit around in our pajamas all day reading decades-old blogs, but humor me. This little blog thing helps keep my feet planted on the ground when everything else is flying by or falling down around my ears. But today I have nothing. No central story, no anecdote. Just: 1 draft of a snarky-yet-professional email to our real estate agent telling her we’re taking the house off the market until our contract with her runs out. Right now it’s more snarky, less professional, so I need to work on that 1 toddler who will not remove her hands from around my leg at any time during the day, even when I’m trying to a) shower, b) wash the dishes, c) change pants 1 little…