For one, it is the room I spend the most time in (or at least tied with the kitchen). It is where Jack and I play catch and read our books. It is where Andy and I cuddle into the couch to watch CSI or Biggest Loser. It is where I fold laundry or ignore the laundry with my latest book selection.
It is also walled with three giant windows that face east. I have come out of my bedroom the last week and been greeted by early sun. The days are getting longer and sky clearer. As I open the blinds each morning, Jack smiles and then turns his head to avoid the glare, then I sing our morning song:
Way up in the sky
The little birds fly
While down in their nest
The baby birds rest
The bright sun comes out
The dew falls away
The little birds say
Usually, after our wake up routine Jack is eager to get on the floor and check on all of his toys. He crawls from one corner of the room to the other, playing with each of his favorites. While he checks on everything I make some chai, check my e-mail and do whatever else I need to do to get the ol' gal moving.
The plan this morning was to feed ourselves and then while my sweet babe explored I would put on my gym clothes and whisk us both to the gym for an energizing work out (play time).
However, as is often the case, Jack is unpredictable. All of my plans have to be flexible. This morning Jack has snot pouring out of his nose, a feeble little cough and a creeping temperature. Poor baby. I'm sure he would be fine playing at the gym, but i don't really want to be that mommy who brings her sick kid and infects all the other kids. At least not today.
So instead of making the trek, we're cuddling and playing quite games. Jack gets a quick burst of energy and plays with abandon, and then crawls back to me to sit quietly on my lap. I am sorry that he doesn't feel well, but boy to I love the way he melts into me!
I'm imaging a day of more, but shorter naps, lots of story reading and most likely no shower. My mind is racing, thinking of all the things that I should, could and want to do: clean out the fridge, explore my dreams, catch up on e-mails, plan March's menu, research planting a vegetable garden, fold the laundry, clean my room, vacuum and sweep... Then there are the things that I had planned to do, and now need to move to a later day: grocery shopping, taking Andy's clothes to the dry cleaner, the gym...
I want to feel productive. I want to have something to show for the end of this day. But truthfully, very little will probably actually get done. Andy will come home and the laundry will still be on the couch. I will still be in my robe and dinner will not be finished.
I'm okay with it. Luckily for me, Andy is okay with it too.
My novel and glass of water are positioned right next to the couch, for those moments when Jack dozes asleep in my arms and I choose to just hold him rather than put him in his crib.
The dishes are done because last night I made sure that when I woke up at least one room in my house would be clean, so at least that is something.
Regardless of how many checks I get to put on my list, today is still going to be a great day. Never again will Jack be one day away from being 11 months old. Never again will it be February 23, 2009. Today is special. It holds great promise.
I am going to enjoy it. Living this day, with passion, energy and love.
This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.