You know how, a while back, I was complaining a little bit about our vacation to Telluride, how it wasn't really a vacation because, you know, we still had to chase after the kids and all, and while it was a great trip, I didn't feel so rested afterwards? Well, this makes up for it:
This is me and the girls, blissing out in what I affectionately term "the womb," i.e., the hammock that Eric bought me for our anniversary, and which I have not left for the last 72 hours. Where has this thing been my whole life? I think that if someone had placed me in a hammock for a half hour a day for the last thirty-two years, I would have been a much more pleasant, centered person this entire time, instead of a stressed out, squinched up little stinker.
I'm not exaggerating, either. I get in that giant, swinging womb, and I am--alakazooshazam--instantly transported. My whole body relaxes, my breathing slows, I stare for long minutes at the leaves blowing in the trees. The kids climb all over me, nearly upsetting the womb's delicate balance, and I don't blink an eye. Life is good in there. I don't want to come out.
The womb is partly to blame for my not writing much lately, as is the fact that I acquired a used sewing machine on Craig's List and have been busy stitching every available piece of fabric in the house together (I briefly contemplated sewing Eric's socks together as a joke, but refrained). You should see the curtains I made for Addie's room! They're a big wild pattern, and the seams are messed up, and I didn't line up the graphics, and the borders are different widths, but hey! I, domestic degenerate that I am, sewed them. And also, I've been reading my ass off for work. You didn't think you could read your ass off, did you? But I have been. All these things feel so big to me, like such good changes. But I look at them here and giggle a little because it's really not all so much at all, given this big wide world and all its problems. It just feels like my own tiny right path, that's all. And I'm happy to be on it.
Now leave me alone. I'm a goin swingin.