To do list

Judah took one last nap in the bassinette. Good thing we had a crib ready, eh?




Enthralled by the pattern on the canopy made more striking by the bright light in the dining room

If I didn't have to sleep, my house would be clean.

July has skated by like a phantom and, like every July in my adulthood, I find myself baffled to be encountering August already. I am comforted by the fact that, without the school year to consider, September is just as summery a month as June, and quieter.

I'm reluctant to espouse a complaining tone in any form, as the busyness of this month has been comprised of the myriad activities available to the Michigander in summer: walks, lakes, fruit picking, playdates, the county fair, friends' pools, Sandy Pines, Saugatuck excursions. I remind myself of the relatively carefree composition of my days when I start to get sucked into feeling stressed that I'm not accomplishing my list of household tasks; I CHOOSE what to do with the day, and if I don't finish the laundry or clear off the kitchen counter from last week's pool party (let alone reorganizing kids' clothes or cleaning out the basement) it is because *I* prioritized blueberry picking and taking the kids to swim with Aunt Cakey and told myself it was okay.

I tell myself that these days are fleeting, that I will look back in sterile February and glow wistfully at the thought of spending a day basking in warm sun without a heavy coat, that I need to enjoy the weather while I can. Still, the house doesn't take care of itself.

Maybe tonight, after Eden goes to bed.


Yeah right.