Time in a bottle

There are moments locked in time, in recent memory, that are as rare and precious as each breath I take.
The combined laughter of my children and myself.
Dancing with the one I love.
Hugs from teenage daughters that don't hug all that often anymore.
The wind in my hair after a hard day that wore me down.
Another's hands preparing dinner.
Baby Chicken looking at me after we watched a scene on TV where the teenage son looks at his Mom and says, "You're a good Mom", then turning to me and saying the same thing.
Embarrassing the Oldest Chicken while mimicking her dance moves in the car on the way to the high school.
Laughing at something (God, ANYTHING) Middle Chicken says.
So on days when I just want to bang my head against the brick wall, kick the door, and scream until my lungs collapse, I'll pull these moments out and wrap myself in them as a cushion between the wondrous beauty of parts of my life and the stress that tries to cling to me and bring me down like quicksand.
*humming Jim Croce*
Grins*

Monday, Monday

Left work yesterday at one o'clock. Baby Chicken was supposed to have a recorder concert sometime during school. That, of course, was postponed, but I already asked for the time off. So I went home.
And how wonderful was it?
It was fucking grand, let me tell you.
*grins*
Settled my little laptop on my lap and went to town on Earth Goddess and WATS. Wrote around four thousand words or so. Felt accomplished. *nodding* I was home for the chickens when they arrived. Whipped up some French toast.
I had it going on.
What a difference four hours makes.
Who knew?
You simply don't realize how much you miss those hours until you get them back, however briefly. I felt wonderful yesterday. Had time to listen to the chickens. Wrote on my book. Listened to the chickens some more.
Pure.
Bliss.
So instead of beating my damn head against the wall at work and wondering what in the blue hell some people were thinking...I was kicked back in my yoga pants and tank top writing and waiting for the girls.
Finally.
A Monday I can live with.
Grins*

Pictures of the chickens

Caught this double rainbow after another gully washer. *grins* Okie slang for heavy rains.

Thought I'd share.

Middle Chicken-Reluctant, yet smiling

Baby chicken-posing. Of course. *laughing*

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Oldest Chicken-Queen of the Rock

Oldest, Middle, and Baby Chicken at the lake.

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It was a lovely weekend.

Grins*