4 Hours

From Plinky.com:

Describe what you’d do with an extra four hours today?

I’ve been feeling especially sluggish since getting back from Vegas almost a week ago – and paranoid me would almost think it’s health related but I had a physical two weeks ago including bloodwork and no phone call saying there’s something wrong so I’m going to chalk it up to all the eating and drinking around my birthday plus the lack of activity and lack of sleep. In other words, blame Vegas. So my first inclination was to say sleep. Sleep all four hours.

Except I’ve been taking advantage of Clara’s afternoon naps and sleeping alongside her on my bed, her warm little body nestled into mine. Even when I’m not tired, not in need of a nap, I can’t resist the sounds she makes when she sleeps, those little huffs that are impossibly cute.

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So I’d nap with her today, and be grateful for the hour, or two, or three, however long she sleeps. And then, with the extra four hours? There’s more housework than I’d care to admit to, piles of laundry in particular – mine, Taylor’s (the downfall to going away is in fact the laundry), Clara’s. Bedding and towels. Really, life would be so much easier if all three of us became nudists. At least at home.

The fridge needs cleaning out, there’s bathrooms to be cleaned, floors to sweep and mop.

That’s what responsible me would do.

Selfish me would take the time and do some editing on my book. Or curl up in a chair and read. Sprawl on the couch and watch TV. The Office, Damages, Luther, Parenthood – they’ve all got my attention currently.

But the most tempting of all? I’d turn those four hours into a five mile walk with Clara (like we did Saturday afternoon, her in the stroller, kid’s not that athletic, not yet), a romp at the playground, then a good snuggle on the couch with her and her books.

The housework can (and likely will) wait, my books and television shows will always be there, but these days with Clara before she gets too big and doesn’t want to spend those moments with me? Those days are numbered. Something I’m reminded of a lot more lately.

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