sweet solitude

I cherish the mornings when I believe I can conquer anything today. Even if conquering anything means conquering dog hair, dust, dirty footprints on the tile floor, wet nose marks on the patio door, grocery shopping, a new recipe, working at least two hours and somehow looking fresh as a daisy by the time our guests arrive for dinner.

Even though we have many months before we begin starting a family (please don't jump all over that), my brain is wired to think enjoy every day you sleep in, every uninterrupted time with Andy, every coffee/lunch date, every book and magazine you can lazily read, every inch of the house that may be covered in dog hair but is not covered in blocks and little plastic army men and toy cars and Barbie accessories. Breathe in your freedom. Delight in sweet solitude.


So I'm vowing to make this afternoon a cheerful, joyful one. I may have chores to do, but I can blast music and dance around the house and find accomplishment in preparing our home for fellowship. It is a choice, after all, and I am done with choosing to be lazy.