Monday, September 05, 2011
I ran away from my troubles this weekend. A husband playing hooky out west meant a long labor day weekend for a still worried and watchful wife. I called a friend who found she too was spouse less for a spell and we combined our company to make six rascals and a couple craving camaraderie.
It was meant to be.
Only an hour and a half away from our home, I found in hers, the best night's sleep I'd had in months. Plus a nearly constant conversation in the kitchen. While our offspring busied themselves with treasure hunts, domino chains, dress ups, and bowl after bowl of macaroni and cheese.
It was just what I needed.
I baked a cake for the first time since early spring at least. We decided over and over again that one must just give in.
Just give in.
That is my new mantra. I came home to a house and found it just as I left it. Sigh. There were a dozen eggs in the coop and all six chickens roosting for the night (two still in the trees that are too fast to get their wings clipped). The rain tonight encouraged the new peas, spring onions, cabbage, broccoli, beets, lettuce and radishes to reach a little higher.
Give into your life. Give into the laundry and the dishes. But also the darlings and the doldrums. Give into the fatigue. Give into the restlessness. Give into the ecstasy and the endless energy of the 8 and under crowd. Give in, at once, to the unexpected and the everyday. Just give in.
*Photo courtesy of Ann, my sister who moved to Qatar in the Middle East last month. She writes beautifully of giving in to motherhood.