I am alone.
Can you understand exactly what I am saying? (if you are a mother, you get it)
Alone. In my own house.
The Dancer is at preschool.
The Cowgirl is in third grade.
And I have graduated to being a mother with three hours in the morning.
Which will be a lot more fun next week when I can reclaim my house.
Oh, what's that, my friend? You want to know what happened to my house.
Let's go back to the beginning. Thirteen years ago I fell in love with an artist. And two artistically minded people joined in a common cause to overcome ugliness- let's just say it's not always pretty.
We just keep doing it! We keep deciding that we can just make one little improvement.
And before we know it- well, see for yourself:
A few precious days ago this place was still recognizable as a home.
And I had a sink.
And a refrigerator.
It was a special time.
I just couldn't leave well enough alone.
But speaking of alone- I am!
I took a victory run this morning (I'm sure my panting didn't look too victorious, but trust me, I felt it on the inside) and when these three golden hours of aloneness are over, I'm looking forward to some golden hours of togetherness.
Balance is a beautiful thing.