A Perfect Day

6:30 A.M.
With two little kids, I didn’t really expect to sleep in. Still, Tony got up with Eli at 6, and I got to keep my eyes closed another half hour, until Ben came thundering down the hall. Sweet guy, he’s been waiting to give me my Mother’s Day present since he made it in preschool on Friday afternoon, and now he can’t wait another minute. We snuggle up in bed to read his card and admire the “garden” of shiny pebbles, feathers, and bits of potpourri pressed into playdoh in a big yogurt lid. I don’t have to fake my enthusiasm, even at this hour: I love it.

7:00 A.M.
Tony and Eli bring me breakfast, the Sunday Times, a little gift and another card. Then the big gift: they all leave for two hours while I read the paper, uninterrupted.

10:00 A.M.
We walk over to the park, where we run into a friend with her two girls (her partner’s off on a training ride for the SF to LA LifeCycle). We all ride the carousel a while, hopping from animal to animal.

Eli falls asleep on the stroll home and miraculously transfers to nap in the crib. Tony, Ben and I eat lunch on the sunny deck.

1 P.M.
Tony (who’s fighting a cold) takes a nap; Ben plays lego while I get ready for my reading.

4 P.M.
We meet up with my writing group at the Nomad Cafe in Berkeley. The microphone’s set up in the children’s play area, so our kids lounge on big cushions, look at picture books and play with Exo-Bonz at our feet while the 6 of us take turns reading from our work. It feels just like our bi-weekly meetings!

6 P.M.
Pizza dinner with most of the writing group at one member’s house. Eli can’t believe his luck: we’re letting him play with marbles (he’s almost old enough to deal with choking hazards; besides, I figure, most of these are small enough to go through). Ben discovers the trains just as we’re about to go, but is lured away by the promise of a stop at a friend’s house.

9 P.M.
We’re finally heading home, the boys delirious from playing with their two friends. Ben falls asleep when we’re halfway home; Eli, wired, can’t stop talking. By the time we get home, he’s sighing “Mama, mama, mama!!” like a little drunk. And falls asleep after three minutes in the crib. I’m not far behind.

One Comment

  1. Violeta says:

    I love this post. Sounds like a perfect day.