Afternoons are for sleeping, right?
I love working in the morning. I always have. It’s a tricky thing, because I haven’t always been the easiest person to wake up in the morning (ask my mother about it).
There’s nothing wrong with staying close to home.
©TC Média Archives-Denis Germain
It’s hard leaving the house. I’m not a super social person, so I suppose that doesn’t help, but as a mom of two babies, I find it to be a challenge.
With the hubby away working, I’m often alone, which means that I have to pack up three people whenever I want to seek out something mundane like milk (Amazon doesn’t deliver milk to my door, as it turns out). This usually takes about half an hour, if everyone participates and there are no poops or pees that happen on the way out the door. And if a dog doesn’t run outside like she’s trying to find herself for the fifteenth time that day, leaving me screaming for her to come back so I can just leave the house already. (One time she went missing for an hour, so this is a really problem. Don’t worry—she was just watching fish in the creek or something equally redundant). Luckily, my children think it’s hilarious when I yell the word “River!” on repeat.
As a result, I try to plan a day for errands, which ends up being an exhausting sort of lovely adventure, because I try to cram everything into one day, which leaves a wonderful sort of frustration/feeling-whole sentiment coursing through me. But this is sort of why I moved out to the country in the first place, right? A little peace and quiet? So the next time you visit, remember that I might seem like I’ve gone a little strange, but that you must forgive me. Because I haven’t left the house in five days and I’ve only held successful conversations about pee, Poppy the Troll and the use of the word “No”.