Call It What You Want...

Mark is sitting on my lap, helping me write this morning.

He's not helping so much as he's not hindering. He's listening to the Bob the Builder soundtrack, about which he doesn't really care, but it's more interesting than sitting in the mostly quiet and listening to the blowing sound from the furnace, which doesn't seem to get this room warm enough for Daddy's liking but is mostly fine for Mom. He's also playing with his mostly favorite toys -- his hands -- and is for certain getting ready for a nap. We're hoping for a good one like we had yesterday morning. It was an hour and a half in his bed, and I got some actual work done during that time.

I have an amazing friend from college with whom my contact in the past few years has been sporadic at best, something I regret terribly. Well, she and her husband are expecting, which is pretty miraculous in itself because she didn't think she'd ever be able to get pregnant. She's a kazillion miles away and struggling with a new job, unseasonably snowy winter weather in NC, and pregnancy, and I wish we were closer, like we were back in college. So my blissful free time yesterday morning while Mark napped was spent making baby Sasha a present. It wasn't elaborate, but considering how much free time I have to sew, it was something. I hope that baby knows just how special she is when she comes.

Now Mark is helping by being up in his bed, but he's still whining, and there's laundry to do, if he perchance stays asleep. I didn't understand why my friends with newborns couldn't get much done... now I do.