chillin'

Today we're just hanging out. Abigail sprained her knee during the night, which means we've canceled all our activities (kind of a bummer, since she had a playdate scheduled this morning and I was looking forward to just self-indulging leisure time as a V-day gift to myself).

But on the other hand, when her knee hurts this much, she can't walk, which means we are limited to fairly quiet activities. Like reading stories, coloring, and...watching movies. Which [the movies] RARELY happens around here. And since she's in a pretty good mood, it's been a lovely morning thus far (and sort of funny to watch her crawling around, since she often takes off after something rather than just asking me to get it. I think, however, I've finally got her convinced to just let me carry her--which she'll probably now insist on for the next month, but oh well).

Which means it's time for a confession. Like all mothers, it makes me really sad when my children are sick. I don't like watching them suffer, I don't like seeing them in pain, I don't like wiping noses and cleaning up messes and such.

But I also love the cuddliness of little (mildly) sick kids. I love just snuggling together and having them be content to lie in my arms and let me sing to them. I love curling up together on my bed with goldfish crackers and juice and watching Peter Pan together. So in some ways, I love sick days, because they are a respite from our crazy jam-packed schedule where we can just sit back, cancel everything with a clear conscience, and enjoy some indulgent time. I don't feel guilty about not doing laundry or cleaning bathrooms, because hey, my kids need their mommy!

So goodbye, my friends. I'm off to enjoy my cuddly lovekins.