December the 8th

I've been so exhausted.

Sound familiar to anyone else?

I mean...it is December and all.

It has kind of been a happy, busy exhausted, but it has been catching up to me.

I've been burning the midnight oil for several nights running.

I've felt like there's a cold waiting to tango with me, just on the brink of getting in the door.

Yesterday afternoon, with the kids around me, cutting their own fabric scraps, I was cutting out pieces for the duvets in the dollhouse.

I had every intention of working on it late last night.

But then, still late, I climbed into my bed with a new book from a friend, and just relaxed for a few minutes until I turned out my light because my eyes were burning.

So, I caved this morning.

I didn't take the boys to preschool.

The time came and went and they were happily playing, doing who knows what.

I let myself sleep.

When I woke up, I picked up the book I began last night, already totally sucked into the story.

I read.

Got the announcement, via text, of the birth of my friend's baby.

Awwh.

Heard the mail drop down into the slot and went to find another Christmas card (I anticipate the mail every day because I love love love them).

Crawled back into my bed and read some more.

Just barely got up and am going to go make a big, fat, delicious breakfast for us all.

But when I got up, this is what I found the children had been doing happily for some time.

And the best part?

Normally I would tell them no way, not in this room, you know we don't play on this couch or take all the pillows off.

You know what I'm talking about.

But nope, not this morning.

Sometimes you are blessed with a clear perspective -- the kind where you see the adventures and magic of childhood imagination and you can't possibly step in and ruin it.

I walked by, smiled when they told me what they were up to, and just let them continue right on.

A small success in letting something small go that I typically get my panties tied in a knot over, and focusing on the things that matter most.

I'm sure that made them happy, but it made me oh so happy.

I was little once.

They help me remember that.