I awoke to heavy, somber gray skies and the pitter patter of the rain. As I puttered around this morning, sipping coffee and perusing the paper, I reveled in the tranquility and peace. Mr. Wonderful and I had a quiet, uninterrupted conversation while the kids slumbered in their teenaged oblivion.
When my children were young, I used to relish the evenings once they were asleep because it was "me" time. I could finally relax and take a bath, or sip a glass of wine, or read a book.
My days were, and still are, filled with the constant cries of "Mom!" and "Have you seen my....." or "Stop it!". I am a short order cook, a chauffer, a laundress and housekeeper. I am the one who finds lost books and sweatshirts and tennis shoes. I keep track of appointments and activities and I listen to stories of teenage drama and hurt feelings. I still dispense kisses and hugs to make everything better. I am unable to find a private moment during the hustle and bustle of the day, not even in the bathroom!
So now that my kids are older and I no longer have the evenings as my time to recharge, I savor the still, somnolent, torpidity of lazy mornings while the teenagers wallow in slothful languor. I relish the delicious contentment of slowly sipping coffee and indulging in the luxury of a quiet, lazy morning.
The misty, drizzly morning renews me with a sense of tranquility.
