I have some serious Type-A tendencies (which is probably just another way of saying I've been in academia for a very, very long time and have the multiple degrees to show for it). As a result, I predictably have a hard time relaxing and enjoying life. With kids - especially young ones - that's a terrible way to be; you wind up missing so much and then regretting it later on. Hell, #1 is only 5.10 and I already regret little things: not reading to her as much as I could/should have when she was smaller, not getting down on the floor with her and participating in her insane little games...and you can double the regret for #2, with whom I've had a contentious relationship since before he was born (when he wedged his head into my pelvis in a misguided attempt to get out and proceeded to spend a month thinking that he was really on to something).
Point being, I've been given this time - without dissertation, without job, and, critically, with financial support - to do with as I will, and I think it's important to spend at least some of it on a project of discovering the blessings of the mundane. I decided to kick it off today, on Day #3 of the kids' Spring Break, by making myself a fried egg for the first time in my life. Actually, I made two. I'm no great cook, and am particularly and perpetually stumped by how to get pancakes right (or even edible), but these eggs were perfection, if I do say so myself. Yolky goodness surrounded by a slightly crisp white, capped off by just the right touch of salt. Delicious.
Now, on to the laundry and hanging with the kids.
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