Snippets

Days one and two of no Internettes, done. Already my mind is clearer, my patience longer, my eye contact with my children better, my voice stronger. The only things I used it for today beyond email was to listen to Pandora, update Jason's company Facebook page, look up appropriate attire for the weekend dinner reservations, check Chicago weather, and peruse the spa menu at our hotel.

Both girls had Winter Break from school today, so we started the day cuddling on the couch in jammies and finished it, predictably, with Little Bear and sponge rollers. (I will never get tired of watching Little Bear; could anything be sweeter? When my kids are too old for it, which they will be in a year or so, I will console myself by thinking about watching Little Bear with my grandchildren. Is it creepy that I am thirty-four years old and thinking about my grandchildren? Probably.)

The girls played Sorry! and restaurant while I showered, and then we went to Wealthy Street Bakery mid-morning, just because. It was quieter there than usual, so we loitered at a table, our threesome with our scone, our danish, and our cookie, and we just talked while the sun streamed in the windows and the espresso maker steamed noisily.

We baked cookies later in the day (more sugar!) and packed bags for sleepovers before dance. It felt like the old days, back when nobody had school and every day stretched out long in front of us, but since there was only one of them and not 377 in a row, it was okay. It was good.

Now, Land's End totes are crammed with footie jammies and favorite stuffed animals, night lights and church clothes, for a winter weekend at the grandparents'. My suitcase is full-to-bursting, too; two nights in a big city, and I throw it all in: blazer, flats, boots, jewelry, running clothes, cozy lounge pants for the morning when we order room service and read magazines. I love a fancy hotel.

(One time Annie wrote me a note and ended it by saying, "I love you as much as anyone could love anything." It may be my favorite thing that anyone has ever written.)