I was going to title this post "Blue Monday" because, once again, I was feeling sad about yesterday being one of my last days home with the boys. Then I realized how much more aware and appreciative I was of the little moments in the day in a way that I never was when our Mondays stretched out before us into infinity--the heat from the fire, bread dough rising, wearing jammies until bus pickup time, reading and snuggling on the couch, sneaking away to sew, splashing in puddles, the feel of a tiny hand in mine as we walked, even the obnoxious sound of a four-year-old "playing" the recorder. Each moment seemed to seep into my consciousness, keeping me in the here-and-now, not focusing on "in a couple weeks" or "remember when?" It was a delicious feeling and something I think I've been searching for for years. I hope I can keep it with me for a while.
Best of Autocorrect
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