Adapting

It is so, so gorgeous out right now that it's almost a crime to be inside. After days of cold, it's unexpectedly sunny and warm (though I think the cold and rain are returning tomorrow). I went running early this morning and savored what might be one of my last non-treadmill runs of the season.

Annie went home from school with a friend, and Jemma is on day two of not-napping. The concept of "quiet time" does not quite compute with her yet, either; yesterday, she spent the entire time in her room yelling statements and questions to me as I TRIED to catch up on e-mail and write one coherent sentence on the laptop. "Mommy, come in and sing to me!!!!" "Mommy, where are youuuuuuuuu???" "Mommy, I am UUUUUPPPPP!" I let it go on for an hour, then went to get her and resigned myself to an afternoon of breakdowns and meltdowns. If she keeps it up, I might reconfigure our days, abandon rest time, and get everyone to power through until (an earlier) bedtime. I would probably miss the quiet time more than the girls.

It's crazy to think about, but we're already making plans for things into November and December: getting babysitters for parties, trying to figure out our holiday schedules, starting Christmas lists, signing up for snow-plowing. (Ick.) As the days get shorter and colder, I'm making an effort to seek solace in the small things. Baking zucchini bread with Jemma in the morning. My upcoming girls' weekend in North Carolina with five of my favorite people. Annie's hilarious Christmas list. Eating a late dinner with Jason. My favorite cinnamon-cider candle. Watching the girls giggle and giggle and giggle as they rake leaves into a pile and throw them up in the air, over and over. There's a niggling fear in the back of my mind as flu season swings into high gear all around us, but so far, we're healthy, and I'm counting that as a blessing right now, too.