I feared I would never get the chance to write.
My gym—their childcare—called to me today. “Bring the children to me and go write in the café.”
The afternoon would not allow it. A perfect, sunny, 70 degrees. It demanded I take my children to the park instead—a place where diligence is still required, and thus no writing.
Three hours passed as I watched my children make new friends and find current ones with squeals of joy.
The laugh as I swung my daughter on top of a large tree branch so she could tower over all.
The relief of seeing my son play well with other children.
The adorableness of my daughter acting the big sister to a one-year-old little girl—sitting behind her and holding her tight down a curving slide. Again and again.
And yes, the soaking wet pants as my daughter is reminded again how pull-ups and underwear have very different properties. I swear that park is her Achilles heel.
Nine hours later…. I finally have my five minutes.