We’re having a rare day of thunder and lightening with light rain. It’s actually pretty cold, which is surprising to me. Our swamp cooler was just hooked up two days ago because it was around 90 degrees, but today it’s in the 50’s. BB decided he’d put on his poncho and go play in the rain. I think it’s about the most adorable sight I’ve ever seen, but he quickly got cold and he wasn’t too thrilled with me pulling out the camera. At six I guess he doesn’t get the whole capturing the moment for posterity thing.
Hubby’s been out of town since Sunday and I’m feeling really really pooped. I just can’t sleep well when he’s not here. I guess I miss him too much to sleep.
The weather isn’t helping much, either. 50 degrees and rainy. I love the rain, but I wonder why it always seems to happen on our co-op park days.
I feel like a walking train wreck. My house is a mess, the landlords are landscaping the back yard so that’s a mess too and we can’t really play out there, I have a mountain of folded laundry I need to put away, and the cats won’t stop meowing at me. I also have to find time to go grocery shopping today, which I know BB will not be agreeable to. All I want to do is curl up and read a book. I’m almost done with one I’ve been working on for a couple of months, and I just got a new book from the library. A Dean Koontz novel. There’s something about a Koontz book that takes me away. When I start to feel a need to move away from Bronte and Hardy and into the pages of a Koontz, I know that I’m stressed or hiding from myself. It’s the equivalent of pulling the covers over my head and not facing the world. But I don’t have that luxury. I have a six year old to attend to. A six year old who wants me to sit on the floor and play endlessly with his Rescue Heroes, Planet Heroes or Playmobile. A six year old who deserves a mom who will play with him, not a mom who curls inside herself and hides.
So, ready or not, it’s time to start my day. A nice hot shower followed by another cup of joe will hopefully do the trick for me.