I start my day with Legos.
On the floor. Sucked up into the vacuum. Lined up waiting to get into a little Lego door on my messy kitchen table.
They keep me company while everyone else is away.
I work from home--and now my hours are the same each day. Inquiring minds want to know what this means for Sam. Inquiring minds meaning my mom, who has decided he must be neglected given my schedule.
He's not. Well, unless you count the fact that we both wear pajamas almost all day.
We change right before we leave the house to pick up the kids from school.
I can't think of anything that makes me as happy as an elastic waistband.
This kid is always right beside me. Playing, drawing, painting, singing.
It's especially fun on the rare occasion I have to make a phone call.
Are you raising chickens in your living room, what is that noise?
That'd be my son.
Hm. Sounds like a chicken.
It's a gift.
Big imagination this kid. And I'm happy to report he hasn't played a video game since the other two went back to school. I'm starting to think his older brother is a bad influence on him.
I love having him home with me. He's so good. And funny. And even though if I find one more Lego Ninja in my bed I'm going to hurl something heavy out the window, I am feeling really lucky I get to hang out with him all day.
We're pretty happy together.
Chicken noises and all.
