A perfect life

I would wake around seven to the sounds of little feet running into my room. I'd roll over, sleepy-eyed, and glance across the empty spot in the bed next to me. Jay would be at work and Will would be standing next to the bed, peering at me with Bald Baby in a headlock under his arm. I'd swing my feet over the edge of the bed, sit up, and sweep my toddler into my arms and hug him. As always, he'd giggle, tuck his chin to his chest so I can't nuzzle in his sensitive neck and he'd push his little body away from mine.

Putting Will down, we'd head out of the bedroom and find Nick in the living room with cartoons on. "Hi Mama," he'd say.

"Whatchu watching?" I'd ask.

"Super Why." Then I'd be off to make my coffee and get the day started.

Later, after dropping Nick at Kindergarten and Will at his Pre-School, I'd arrive back at home to enjoy a second cuppa joe in my office. I'd mainly write for myself, with a few paid gigs thrown in for the sake of "mixing things up" and the guaranteed pay check. (Cuz you see, some of my work would have been hugely successful; others, notsomuch but was fun to write.) Periodically I'd do a Web site project or a photo job for the switch in creativity, and the chance to work with people.

My office wouldn't be super fancy, or even that big, but it would be filled with lots of sunlight, and real plants that I wouldn't kill simply because I'd have time to care for them. (Not just water once they start to get all crispy because "OH CRAP!" I forgot about them again.)

I'd have bookshelves with real books on them - just the titles that I truly, truly loved, and sassy personalized stationary and cool pens. The radio would be on low, tuned to the local morning radio show, where the same guys I'd been listening to for - crap! more than 15 YEARS?!? - are interviewing some athlete. Just when they begin to laugh crazily at some completely asinine thing that has me nearly splitting at the seams, Zeke would walk in, rubbing up against my ankle, purring.

I'd plop that old black cat in my lap as I settled into my comfy non-standard office chair and wrote something new on my blog. Cuz as much time as the rest of my life demands, I could never leave that circle of support and friendship. So I'd write up some quick little ditty about a deep thought I had while in the shower earlier, then set to work on the day's business.

I'd so love what I was doing it wouldn't really be work at all, and my attention wouldn't wane from the task at hand. I wouldn't check my email every five minutes, then facebook, then twitter, then back again. I'd truly feel at peace with what I was doing, and not have any anxiety that I really should be doing something else. Something that mattered.

After accomplishing whatever business-related goals I'd set for myself that day, I'd stretch and do some small household chore before picking up the boys.

Once home, we'd have lunch, then a nap for Will and some TV/play time for Nick while Mommy caught up with just what her bloggie friends have been up to. I'd twitter away with a friend on the west coast until Nick asks if I'd play with him and we'd instead make brownies.

Will would wake up a short time later and the three of us would play Matchbox cars and swords and pretend that Will is, once again, the bad guy. I'd be the Sheriff and I would decide that I'd pardon the little criminal, because his offense, after all, is that he took the book that Nick was reading first.

Later, I'd start dinner just as hubby gets home, and he'd go off to wrestle with the boys while I finish up in the kitchen. We'd eat at the dining room table (which was only slightly cluttered to begin with and did not have any one's pants draped over a chair as the food was being served). We'd talk and laugh and only yell at the boys a handful of times to stop screwing around and eat their food. We'd only have to remind them twice that if they sing at the supper table they'll marry a crazy person.

Hubs would clean up dishes and put away leftovers, starting the dishwasher before leaving the room. We'd spend some family time goofin' around in front of the TV and reading books to the boys before one of us would give them a bath and tuck them in bed.

I'd actually see my husband in the evenings, and have time to just be together. On a typical night, chores would be done, lying on the couch would be enjoyed and TV would be watched. Jokes would be shared, minor squabbles would ensue, gossip would be shared.

I'd love to say there were more children in this scenario - if we are blessed with them they'd certainly have a place here, in my simple utopia. But if this is all we have, then this is all we have.

And there would be time for friends, and time for Momma/Daddy dates. And time for Mommy alone time and Daddy alone time.

I'd be a little more willing to try a new recipe, or a new decorating project, or a new crafty something. Because I'm thinking the fact that I'm always feeling bad about not doing those things means I probably want to be better at them. Or at least give them a try when I'm NOT so crunched for time and patience.

I think I'd get back into volunteering. I miss my little old lady friends from church (cuz dood, they are the most awesome mentors evah - they've done this crap already) and I haven't served lunch at St. John's in forever.

I'd chaperon field trips and help the Kindergartners with art projects.

We'd invite friends for dinner and our kids would play like wild little monkeys until said friends dragged them, red faced and happy, out the door home.

My perfect wouldn't be perfect. Just a little less crazy, a little more together.

Now...how do I do something about it?

Soon...soon...