monday.

Word on the street has it that we are going to feel a touch of summer this week.  70 on Wednesday they say.  And so the Monday morning rain felt doubly like a gift this morning as Lulu and me stayed in our pjs and scrubbed the house clean.  The house that was wearing a layer of dust and detritus from a weekend spent trying (and failing) to make a papier mache Giganotosaurs for Peter.  A weekend spent going on a run with my oldest, he on his ripstick forcing me to go faster than I normally would.  A weekend in which Tess has her first sleep over, which was so so much easier than any sleep over the boys have ever had, and in which the boys had them too.  A weekend of building animals in the sandbox and cutting down perennial grasses and making chia seed pudding, something I’m the teensiest bit obsessed with lately.  So, this whole morning to stay in pjs and make this house clean again.  To wash all the rugs and stack away the ski boots until next season.  To wipe dirty prints off the door jams and to swap out Valentine’s for Spring.  And then to lay next to my baby for an hour and a half while she fought sleep and I listened to her doing it with her raspy nodder breathing.
And now I’m ready to throw open the doors and welcome the other three, who will all waltz through it starving and smelling like tempura paint and bus leather.  And on Wednesday, if the word on the street proves right, I’ll be cranking the windows open and breathing in the delectable smell of spring seeping into the dark corners and I’ll be doing it all wearing my havaianas and a grin.  Welcome Monday.
This is me being real.

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