The kids just left for school after over two weeks off, the littler boys all shiny and proud in their new clothes and Sam carrying his very own violin, brought to him by Santa. Eli was up early, showered and ready for the day by time I got up, a little surly but still, up and ready to go. The house is quiet now, and I have gone from room to room turning off lights and mopping up water from the bathroom floor, putting lids on toothpaste and hair gel and rinsing out the bowls from the oatmeal. Laundry going already, the sound of zippers and buttons clinking against the dryer drum and the washer just hitting the spin cycle. The baby still sleeps.
This is my life now, the one of slower mornings and cleaning up messes and planning dinners that actually require cooking as opposed to opening up a box of Hamburger Helper or making tacos. I thought it would be easier, not in the sense of “stay at home moms don’t really work (because God knows that is a lie!)” but in the sense of being less stressed about getting everything and everyone ready and out the door in order to go to work…but it isn’t easier, it’s just a different kind of hard.
So I write while the baby sleeps, not just here but some other things I am working on, wanting and needing to write in order to keep somewhat sane and maybe someday make some money. I look for online work I can do from home (and if any of you have some leads on freelance editing or ghostwriting blog posts or whatever, let me know!), and try to keep the panic at bay. I drink my coffee and do the small chores and try to live in this moment of gratitude for these slower mornings while the baby sleeps.