And on the Seventh Day She Rested

I love Saturdays. But not just any Saturday. Saturdays are the best when they come after a long week of work, where long periods of relaxation were few and far between, where "spare" time equalled "preparation for the next day's busyness" time. In fact, I've become quite militant that grocery shopping be done prior to Friday night and that the house stays at least surface tidy during the week so that, when Saturday morning rolls around, I can wake up to the delicious knowledge that I don't have to do anything that day.

(An aside: I love being a mother to older children. The Husband and I used to have to duke it out in the wee hours - aka 6 am - on Saturday as to who had to get up and entertain the munchkins while the other parent got to sleep in. Now, they quietly turn on the TV, forage for pop tarts, and only come in around 10 am to get some referees for the weekly "Cartoons vs. Video Games" debate.)

And - hooray- today is that day! I'm on my third cup of coffee and just breakfasted on spaghetti since it felt funny to eat pancakes after noon. We're all in varying combinations of pajamas, housecoats (well, The Husband got dressed in yesterday's clothes). Video games, colouring pages and finally finishing Middlemarch are the main agenda items for the day.

An update on the babysitter who came yesterday: she was fabulous! She was as mature as I had been promised, and the kids had a fantastic time with her. Only minor blood (a cut to The Girl's heel obtained during a hiding place gone wrong during a rousing game of Hide and Seek). When we got home, they were all sleepily watching The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe with no sound on - we'd forgotten to tell her how to turn on the receiver, so they managed to get the TV and DVD player going, but had to guess at the dialogue.