Toys end up put back kind of where they belong -- because we spent our time playing instead of picking up. Dishes are put away after they air dry, because we rushed out after dinner for a night time walk, rather than staying in and finishing them. There may be a day or two, or three, where we go without orange juice, or bread...because we had to be up and out for a picnic at the beach, leaving no time for grocery shopping. The kitchen floors here have felt like sticky tape more often than they haven't, because we decided the pool was the more important thing to do that day.
Our laundry has multiplied itself after being left too many days on the bedroom floor, alone...and without adult supervision -- because the weather was just right for a bike ride instead.
After a rainy afternoon spent indoors a few years ago, pulling every game there was to pull out of the game closet and scattering their pieces across the floor, a neighbor popped in. She looked around quietly, though her eyes said everything. I knew she had her hand on her phone, unable to resist reporting to the subdivision about the craziness that lay before her.
Posing it as a question, though it really wasn't, she asked, "Doesn't..."this"...all of "this?" Drive you crazy?"
No, no it doesn't.
Because, "this" -
|Alexander, at his first birthday party|
Too soon becomes "this" -
|Alexander, leaving for Encampment|
And I spent my time being there for all of it.
Alexander is away at a Military Encampment. This is his dream, and I remind myself of that, as I set the table for only four, not five, and make half of what I usually make for dinner...since the biggest eater and most ardent fan of my cooking is gone.
When you come back, my boy, I am making you that seasoned chicken you're crazy over. The one that's roasted in the oven till it's crispy brown, alright?
Gotta go now, the keys are getting hard to see.
I love you.