Upstairs Downstairs

 Summer is always a frenzy. I always forget this, imagining lazy days smiling on the porch swing while the kids run through the sprinkler and Rob grills. Those days happen, but mostly it’s running up and down stairs. That’s summer. Laundry? Run it upstairs. Run dirty downstairs. Baby tired? Run her upstairs for nap. Run her downstairs when she’s up. Charlie upset about stepping on a lego? Run upstairs. You get the idea. So summer sort of melts into the rest of the year. Except there is move action in the stairs since the kids are home.

Except.


Except Rob is here. And he is this crazy awesome hands on dad. So, it’s not just me on the proverbial stairs. So I get time. Sweet precious time. Yesterday he sat with Welles on the porch for an hour while I lost myself in my manuscript.


It’s the most active writing and revising time I have had all year. Thanks to Rob. 


So today, I think I’ll sit on the porch swing and smile. And write. And make the kids come to me. Downstairs.

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