As promised, I am working my way backwards through our weekend. Saturday was a blur of activity. Issa had two birthday parties, Evan and Daddy had a date at the museum, we had friends over for dinner, and we camped out in the backyard. A blur.
But...in the midst of that chaos, I got an hour and half all to myself. Issa's second birthday party was of the drop off variety, and it was just far enough away that it really didn't make sense for me to drive all the way home when a coffee shop was much closer. So, once she was happily dropped off, I made my way to a coffee shop.
I'm reading a biography of Branwell Bronte right now, which I realize makes me one big nerd. It's a book I have been trying to get my hands on since undergrad, but it's very rare. Brad managed to snag me a copy at a used bookstore, and it will probably always be one of my very favorite gifts from him. It has that lovely old book smell, and the fact that he remembered that I wanted to read it is priceless. I'm truly enjoying it, but it's not an easy read by any stretch. Since my usual reading time is right before bed, I haven't been able to spend as much time with Branwell as I would like. But Saturday, I settled into a corner booth with a pumpkin spice latte, cinnamon scone, and Branwell. And for an hour and a half it was quiet and I was awake. It was lovely.
I love the hustle and bustle of our home. I love being Mom, and I love family time. But every once in a while, a little quiet is golden loveliness.