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writer :: feminist :: mother

eleven days

Every day.

I said I would write something every single day for one month.

It's day six. I've already missed one day and trust me, this is not really going to count for much.

I am tired.

Perhaps it is because my son will be officially discharged from the rehab hospital tomorrow.

And now I can finally breathe again.

Perhaps even sleep again.

~~~~~~~~~~

I want another month of summer holidays.

Ours just started.

I am not ready for the kids to go back to school. I mean, yes, I have purchased all their school supplies and new clothes and all of that. I mean *I* am just not ready. I want more lazy days cuddling in bed in the mornings and then wandering the zoo or the museum or the science centre for hours with no schedule to keep or appointments to go to.

I want to take off to the mountains for the weekend and walk trails and have little adventures and order room service popcorn and watch movies in a giant bed in our room at the lodge.

I want to have naps every day and then stay up late playing Wii games till everyone is exhausted.

I want to cook all our meals on the bar-be-que and have our friends over to play in the backyard.

I want more time to fill up the notebooks I bought in May with all the words that were not there for so long and are now coming back to me.

Eleven days until the first day of school. Eleven days until we have to leave the safety of our little nest and face the world again.

I need more time. I need more summer.

I am just not ready.

n~