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bedside

calling me back

I'm writing this post from my "office". Which, isn't much of an office really, because well…my office just happens to be my bed most days. It's where I write most of my posts, it's where I have a good plug to juice up my laptop's ailing battery, and it's the softest place to sit in the evenings while I wait for the girls to finally quiet down for sleep. Dan and I keep saying to each other, "We've got to start going back downstairs after we put the girls to bed and enjoy the rest of our house!" But he usually cracks open a book and settles down in the chair in the corner of our room, I gather all the pillows from the bed and prop them up behind me as I sit and write and read. Maybe when the wood stove is firing downstairs, we'll find ourselves trickling back down to the living room.

Tonight, I'm once again writing from my bed, though an ailing stomach has brought me to this place a little earlier than usual. In an attempt to keep my mind off the rumbling, I decided to write. And as I was flipping through some recent photos from my camera I noticed several series of photographs of my bed.

It's funny how it has become such a gathering place. I remember my mother's bed always feeling softer and warmer and more relaxing than my own. And I often wonder if the girls feel the same way about my bed now, because they sure do enjoy spending time here.

faker

Making my bed in the mornings is usually preceded by me shooing Mary from the tangle of quilts and pillows. She wraps herself up and tangles her arms and legs in the covers so many times I have to roll her round and over to get her out. She feigns sleep, hoping I'll let her snuggle in the covers just a few minutes more. And usually, I do.

redemption

The other day, my bed was an important place for my two oldest girls. It had been a morning of constant bickering, from the moment they woke up. Not my favorite way to start the day. I was absolutely losing my mind with how the girls were setting such a horrible mood in the house. Finally, I sent them their separate ways, banning interaction and play together until things settled down. Awhile later, I found them here. Emma reading Mary a story, both tangled under the blankets, knees bent, feet dangling in the air. I snapped a picture, smiled and walked away.

happy monday, all.
good night.

+++++++++

if you have a moment, please visit my friend and neighbor, Sarah in her Race for the Cure.

calling me back

I'm writing this post from my "office". Which, isn't much of an office really, because well…my office just happens to be my bed most days. It's where I write most of my posts, it's where I have a good plug to juice up my laptop's ailing battery, and it's the softest place to sit in the evenings while I wait for the girls to finally quiet down for sleep. Dan and I keep saying to each other, "We've got to start going back downstairs after we put the girls to bed and enjoy the rest of our house!" But he usually cracks open a book and settles down in the chair in the corner of our room, I gather all the pillows from the bed and prop them up behind me as I sit and write and read. Maybe when the wood stove is firing downstairs, we'll find ourselves trickling back down to the living room.

Tonight, I'm once again writing from my bed, though an ailing stomach has brought me to this place a little earlier than usual. In an attempt to keep my mind off the rumbling, I decided to write. And as I was flipping through some recent photos from my camera I noticed several series of photographs of my bed.

It's funny how it has become such a gathering place. I remember my mother's bed always feeling softer and warmer and more relaxing than my own. And I often wonder if the girls feel the same way about my bed now, because they sure do enjoy spending time here.

faker

Making my bed in the mornings is usually preceded by me shooing Mary from the tangle of quilts and pillows. She wraps herself up and tangles her arms and legs in the covers so many times I have to roll her round and over to get her out. She feigns sleep, hoping I'll let her snuggle in the covers just a few minutes more. And usually, I do.

redemption

The other day, my bed was an important place for my two oldest girls. It had been a morning of constant bickering, from the moment they woke up. Not my favorite way to start the day. I was absolutely losing my mind with how the girls were setting such a horrible mood in the house. Finally, I sent them their separate ways, banning interaction and play together until things settled down. Awhile later, I found them here. Emma reading Mary a story, both tangled under the blankets, knees bent, feet dangling in the air. I snapped a picture, smiled and walked away.

happy monday, all.
good night.

+++++++++

if you have a moment, please visit my friend and neighbor, Sarah in her Race for the Cure.

7 comments on “bedside”

  1. Oh sisters. There’s nothing quite like that, is there?

    You know, I think half the draw of camping for my boys is that we all sleep in one big pushed together lump of bedding. They’d like it to be that way at home too 🙂

  2. Oh, sweet. Lately my boys have been coming in in the mornings to snuggle me after their dad has gotten up for work. They’re so soft and warm. ANd I know they won’t want to do this forever, so I’m soaking it up.

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