Today is Monday. A day when I'd normally rush through a morning routine, rush one or more both kids to school or daycare, commute 1/2 an hour to work, and spend eight hours at a desk, and then repeat the routine in reverse. It is noon. Today, I've walked my oldest daughter to school, cleaned the girls' room and the living room, played with water in the backyard with my youngest, ate lunch outside with her, read her three stories, and tucked her in for a nap.
I'll admit that my convictions about staying home wavered a bit this weekend as it all started to sink in. Am I doing the right thing? Will I really enjoy it as much as I think I will? Is this good for the kids, for my husband, for me? I don't know the answers to those questions yet. I do know that I enjoyed my Sunday evening for the first time in a long time without the Sunday evening dread coming on. Life is like an unpainted canvas for me right now. I get to fill it. I just need to decide what the painting is going to be.
All in all, I am extremely grateful for this opportunity. It is something that I never thought I'd be able to do. I hope that I can be worthy of the gift.
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