We've settled into summer nicely.
Every day we sleep a little later, our bodies slowly adjusting, I guess. It takes a while to catch up. Eventually we'll even out.
Yesterday Rachel tried to talk me into going running with her, for social reasons. She needs someone to distract her from the pain. I was momentarily tempted (I like socializing with her) but then she used the words "pain" and "misery" and I got ahold of myself. Instead, I told her what time I got up that day and tried to tempt her into a life of hedonism.
It's a pretty good life, actually.
The girls and I are slowly moving through the musical section of our local video store. Earlier this week it was Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, bless your beautiful hide. (Which I would watch just for the quilts--even in the skirts!--not to mention the fist-fighting and stubborn men in multi-colored shirts falling in love against their better judgement.) On tap next, The Sound of Music. I like the delusions musicals teach about love and marriage. (I was a June bride myself, you know, and I've been a bride for the rest of my life.) It's time to start indoctrinating my girls, I say. Past time.
I spent an afternoon making fairies with Olivia and her friend out of nylons and crepon, and then we spent another whole afternoon buying doll hair and gluing it on. Life cannot get any better when the only thing on my to-do list for an entire day is: Buy doll hair.
We have started our third 1000-piece puzzle. And here is something really great: When David comes home from work and asks what I did that day and I have to really think about it and then remember, well, we finished the puzzle. I cannot stop smiling at that.
Ethan and I are making our way through A Dog Called Kitty one chapter at a time, with me reading and him pressed up against me and making gasps and sighs at all the right places. Best job in the world.
Most days when David comes home dinner has not been started and the table is full of puzzle pieces or game boards. We kiss for a bit and then I go to the store for corn-on-the-cob and fruit. It's already dark when we start eating. We eat and talk for a long time, until Ethan curls up on my lap and asks for a bath and tucking in. David does the dishes while I start the bath and turn on the reading lights. And neither of us hurry.
Then there's the reading and the swimming--the sunscreen alone is enough to make me take up a life of riot permanently. I've decided I'm going to start wearing sunscreen in the winter just for the smell.
I like life as a hedonist. And weddings for twelve in the spring.
So far our summer has plenty of both. Come and join us.