Lazy days of winter

That saying usually has summer tacked at the end, but hey it happens to apply this weekend. We've been loving this warm windy weather. It's lovely outside at a perfectly pleasing 72 degrees. Windows are open and we're going to fire up the grill for the second day in a row.

Beyond the weather, we've been enjoying just spending time together. I love when the six of us can just hang out. We've watched movies, played games, video games, the girls have made lots of art, we took a drive through the country, and spent time outdoors. There's nothing more precious than this time with our girls.

Besides doing some dishes and laundry no other real work has gotten accomplished since Friday. How much do I love this? More than I can say. I can play catch up tomorrow with the housework, but I can never get this weekend back. 

I leave you with a poem that I completely love and adore...

Song for a Fifth Child

by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth, Empty the dustpan, poison the moth, Hang out the washing and butter the bread, Sew on a button and make up a bed. Where is the mother whose house is so shocking? She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking. Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue (Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo). Dishes are waiting and bills are past due (Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo). The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo. Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue? (Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo). The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow, For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow. So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep. I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.