Erick is off again for a few days (again, tramping around in the woods) and I'm feeling a bit ill-prepared. It kinda snuck up on me, his being gone again, for the second time in a month. I knew it was coming (it's written in red on the calendar for heaven's sake), but for some reason, perhaps denial, I haven't thought about it.
Woke up this morning to the pitter-patter of Quinn coming into my room to wake me up. We snuggled and giggled until he decided that what we needed was a few dozen matchbox cars in the bed with us. We played 'drive up the mountain' (the mountain being my knees) for at least half an hour until the rumbling in my tummy forced us out and into the kitchen.
This morning is our usual errand-running routine, but I'm really just not in the mood. But, we'll motor on. Gotta come up with something to do that will be both stimulating and exhausting for Quinn, and keep me feeling like Involved Mama, instead of Just-get-through-it Mama. It just seems too bloody early to have to make my brain do that much thinking.
It's going to be another really beautiful fall day, so perhaps a park is calling us. Or a walk downtown. Or whatever comes up. Maybe I'll just let Quinn decide where he wants to walk, and I'll just go along for the ride.
Yep. That sounds like the way to go. Sometimes letting an-almost 3-year old take charge is the perfect choice.
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