So here I am sitting at my computer, one child in sweet slumber the other attending to his academic pursuits. It is quiet, it is peaceful, it is seemingly the perfect compliment to an overly busy December. I have played a bit of catch up on household chores and done laundry. Then I sat down trying to get my video to upload for the post below that I wrote Friday unsuccessfully. The only thing is that I miss him. I miss them. I remember having the naughty thought about two days before Christmas that I would be a bit, a pretty big bit, happy when the season ended and normalcy resumed. Normalcy consisting of no extra trips to the store at nine thirty, no making decisions about if having a late night every night is kosher for a nine year old, no rushing do to Salt Lake to see lights, family, and any other activity we deem necessary because it is the holidays. Having days that just have the normal ins and outs like making doctor and dentist appointments, potty training, and spending way too much time on facebook. Never did I think that today twenty minutes before his arrival would I be so anxious for his homecoming. I miss his insistence that he must check on his webkins every ten minutes, it doesn't seem to be such a great privilege to have the computer all to myself. In fact, I feel a bit selfish. Who would think I would miss the bounding neighborhood boys who's arrival is announced by gray watery footprints in my hall and Anna waking up from a much need but much to short nap. Yet, I miss those footprints. Maybe it is good that the taunting, teasing, and biting (oh, Miss Anna) is over. Yet, the pirates cove, zoo, and army camp has now been transformed back to a dull living room. So as I wait for Harris to return I must repent from ever, ever, wishing school to be back in session.