Are We Sure The Day of Rest is Sunday?

It was a lovely evening last night. LOVELY.

Why, you ask? Because I did NOTHING all evening.

Okay, that's not really true. I cooked dinner for the boys...but Mr. A helped, so it doesn't count as a true full meal. Once the boys had eaten, I cleaned up the kitchen and then my book and I retired to the bathroom.

In my clean tub, I ran some really hot water and just relaxed. Just me, my book and a glass of tea (can you really call it iced if it is just the tea without the ice?). I lazed in that tub with its scented steam from the apple cider bath salts I'd used and just let myself be. The boys were playing Risk downstairs and getting along quite well, so I wasn't needed to referee.

I think we all needed the down time. We've been on the go since the middle of April, and it takes a toll out of you. The boys needed the time to remember they're kids and not crazed, over-scheduled athletes. I needed the time to remember that while I might be a mom who has 50 kajillion things going on any given day, I'm also a woman who needs to remember to pamper herself.

So here in the Hinterlands, Monday was the night of rest...not Sunday.

Until later...