It's elusive. And fleeting.
If you had asked me two weeks ago about my time you would have heard me mutter something about not having time to talk about time. "Come back and talk to me in two weeks when I'm not working anymore - I'll have plenty of time then," I may have said.
Fast forward two weeks.
I'm not working.
I'm living the dream - oh, how I LOVE the dream!
But somehow, in the dream, I still don't have time to get done all the things that are cluttering up my "To Do" list (and my dining room table!)
Where do my days go?
Well, ok, I know where most of my days go.
They go to the grocery store - with coupons - my days are thrifty and CHEAP!
They go to Target - for all the fascinating items that make my world go round - you know, formula and diapers and toilet paper.
They go to the library - and end up reading books to other people's unsupervised children.
They go to my son's room to play and cuddle while he's still little enough to want me around.
And I love all of these things.
But they take time.
And they don't leave much time for cleaning, crafting, laundry, correspondence, or organization.
And honestly.
I'm ok with that.
Right now, my time is not my own.
My time belongs to a boy with chubby thighs and bright blue eyes.
And if spending my time reading books, singing songs, and teaching the alphabet mean I have dusty floors, unfinished sewing projects, dirty laundry, and late thank you cards - I'll still be smiling.
How could I not when I get to spend my time with them??
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