Saturday. Under normal circumstances, and I use the word "normal" loosely and in a context that in no way resembles its actual definition, we are fully booked with more events and obligations than are physically possible for the average family (not that they are physically possible for our anything-but-average family, but they are booked and on our calendar nonetheless). Sporting events, work events, family and friends' birthdays, holidays, you name it, we usually have anywhere from a handful up to a dozen entries on any given calendar's Saturday. I usually never like dealing with things until they are actually upon me (they tell me it's called denial, but whatevsies), so I never ruin the surprise by actually looking ahead at our calendar of craziness. The day I am living is usually way more than enough for me to handle, anyway. Because of this constant chaos called Saturday, you can imagine my supreme delight when, on getting into bed last night, I asked my husband what was on the calendar for today, and he replied with a casual "nothing".
"Wait, what?" I would have looked ahead for that. I didn't even know how to respond.
So today, we had our day of nothing. And it was just as blissful as I imagined it could be.
We slept in until the crack of 8:30 (Which is like 1 in the afternoon in middle age parent time). The cars did not leave the garage. All. dang. day. long. My husband and I are both still in the pajamas we woke up in. Maybe gross, but don't lie, you're jealous.
Every stitch of clothing got laundered, dried, folded, and put away. I had very little to do with that. My husband has a thing about finishing what you start when it comes to laundry, and it is beyond my capacity to even listen long enough to understand what he means...because, hey, if it's clean, it's golden. Bonus if it is folded in neat piles, separated by the human who is currently wearing them. But putting them away in the drawers, and hanging in the closets?...psh...sounds like the stuff of Elizabethan romances and magical animated Disney animal servants. To my husband's thinking, however, this is what needs to happen to the laundry to be done, so 6 loads of laundry are fresh and in their proper drawer, closet, and cubby.
I got 8 loaves of bread baked, which is about enough for 3 days. Basketball was watched, baseballs were thrown, and a toenail was ripped viciously from it's bed in a freak door opening incident (don't ask...it happens.) She heals quickly.
Two pots of coffee were consumed and three meals were eaten, all in the comfort of our home, all in the company of my family, my favorite people on earth. While this might not sound like much to most, to me, the quietness and togetherness made this Saturday something altogether special. Its rarity transformed something unspectacular into a day that insanely enough, I can honestly describe as wonderful.
I adored our day of nothing. I am writing about it to serve as a testimony of hope. A day of witness for myself to look back on, because I know with a certainty it will be many moons before another comes along. To remember that such a day existed. That it was wonderful. That it will come again, someday.