The floor is slightly clean. The linoleum squares pocked with marks from toys and chairs and lots of kitchen activity. It is the room we are in the most; and now, the kitchen floor has become my camp. William's bouncy seat sits in the corner and as long as I am here on the floor and can talk to him, he is a happy fellow. He loves to talk. He coos and bubbles and hums and laughs while I sip my Earl Gray tea and write while sitting on my halfway clean linoleum square.
He has another place that is about as convenient as this one. He loves his changing table. I call it his Zen Station. I've clocked up to 45 minutes standing there talking to him while he laughs and smiles. He loves to read here. The pile of books on the corner grows and we've even figured out how George Wilder can perch there with him while we read. My legs get shaky tired, but I wouldn't trade these moments for the world.
All of this talking means very little cooking. The cooking isn't happening. George decided that it was time to take action and once again, he put together the most amazing vegetable korma and lamb dorowat. It was tremendous and makes it pretty hard for me to want to cook another dish ever again!
While George cooked, the children drew chalk pictures on the back porch. George Wilder drew daddy with a beard and Amelia drew mama feeding William.
And George Wilder, our costume man, lives in his kilt. He would wear it everywhere and always if he could. He would sleep in it, go to the library in it, concerts (especially because he can dance in it) and to church . . . He loves the kilt (a skirt donated by cousin Elizabeth).
The children find fun creative ways to pass the nursing phase. They found their way into the drier this morning.
What fun this life is.