I was sad to see my girls off at the airport in this morning’s darkness, but I thought I’d enjoy coming back to 437.75 square feet of my very own personal space. To eat, clean, cook, and listen to music whenever and however I wanted. To indulge in some wide open spaces of uninterrupted time to work on a few projects that I’ve been putting off for a long time. To– finally and definitively– clean the high chair, floor, flotsam and jetsam of tiny cups and bowls and spoons in the sink, and to take the stinky diapers out to the trash. To put things on the shelf and expect them to remain there until I pick them up again.
But after working late and coming home again, I miss the noise, the chaos, the tiptoeing, the messes, the laughter and the crying (I cannot believe I’m saying this). Of course, I don’t miss the collection of stinky diapers. Hopefully, my little hints about potty-training and curing The Girlie off the pacifier at Nana’s will have their effect.