the tree at first light this morning
Dr. Gooch is working a whole week of evenings. It's a bummer of a shift that whisks him away before the children are all home and after the Mama is in a semi-comatose state. Anyway, picked the son up from the elementary establishment today and we all (minus the doc) headed to the park "where the sweet gum balls are". I've been collecting them for a wreath project that has commandeered the breakfast table for the second time in a week. At the park, I was "underdogging" Hazel and Lucy on the swings and watching the squirrels leap in the treetops and decided we needed an adventure. Maybe it was because I was feeling bored of our usual routine. Maybe it was that the kids had just been watching the movie "Up", or maybe it was just that the table at home was a mess with the wreath stuff and I didn't want to clear it off and make dinner. I often get this sort of itch. It starts in my head just behind my eyebrows and works is way all the way down until it gets smothered by things like moving loads of clean close into the dryer or rubbing down greasy dishes under warm water in the sink, or making the bed (which I actually rarely do)--boring things like these.
The itch was lit this evening as we left the park. I had thoughts of dropping the whole week's schedule and driving down to Florida and making the cousins stay home from school, too and spend a week with squeaky sand under foot on the beach with my sister and her bunch.
It was snuffed out before we even passed the Kangaroo on the corner. Oh, well. I was jerked out of my fantasy fog by Hazel's question,
"Why are you our Mom, Mom, and why do you have a phone all the time."
My response, "Um, because I birthed you. You came from me."
Lucy chimed in, "Ya, Hazel, you came out of Mommy's tummy. And I came out of Mommy's tummy, and Seth came out of Mommy's tummy, and Avis came out of Mommy's tummy...(longish pause)...Mom, did Dad come out of your tummy, too?"
Then, I remembered: Oh, yea, THIS is the adventure. Plus, I have a peace of the mountains lit up in my living room to keep me company after the rascals all nod off. It smells so good.