I've been sick this week, hiding underneath my sleeping bag, laying on the couch for days. The kids have gotten used to fending for themselves. Sure, I've gotten up to make a few meals, wash the dishes and cook up a strong pot of soup. Because of sheer exhaustion, coupled by a paradoxical case of insomnia, I feel as if I have reached some new threshold of mothering. Yesterday afternoon I had to get out of the house. My husband and the kids lit a small fire outside. I laid down on the grass to watch the clouds roll by and listen to the twilight bird songs. I wish I had a week off from mothering, in full health!

With this incredible amount of 'free time' to get better, I've been rereading piles of favorite books: anything written or illustrated by Barbara Cooney, David Wiesner's visual journey's and
Charlotte and David Yue's series on various Native American tribes. I set up a short playlist of favorite Ray Charles songs: "Busted", "It's Not Easy Being Green", and "Ring of Fire". This too shall pass, and soon I will be back in good health.