It's 2pm and it's the time of day that is the precious hour or so when Eve is "resting" and Morgan is not yet home from school. When Morgan comes home, I love to ask her about her day and help her with homework and feed her a cookie. And when Eve is "resting", she is really just storing energy for the last part of the day, which most women call the witching hour.
So in the time frame before then, I am a bit paralyzed. I know how precious this time is. I know I could fold laundry (*yawn*), iron Dan's shirts (*ugh*), start dinner (not a half bad idea) or rest. And those are just four ideas of the 179 that are dancing in my head. Somewhere in there is a notion that I should be outside because it is 70 brillliant degrees outside and it is March. In Chicago. It's a March miracle is what it is.
It's anyone's guess what I'll do. :)
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I tried to explain our house type
to my husband.
It wasn't Colonial.
Or Mission Style.
It wasn't Cottage, either.
"It's traditional, Dan. Traditional."
He shook his head firmly and smiled.
"No," he said,
"it's 'Early Cookie Cutter'."
And with that, I winced.
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