This morning, as every morning, I awoke to, "Mommy.. mommy... moommy... moooommy..." repeated over and over again by my two-year-old son through the baby monitor. Each resounding "mommy" got a little longer and whinier and motivated me to move a little faster out of bed, through the living room, and to his bedroom to retrieve him from his crib. As we hurried through the frosty living room back to the warmth of my bedroom, I took a quick peek out the window to see what kind of day would be presented to me. Clouds. Though unwilling to reveal the sun, they did not seem like they wanted to do much of anything except perhaps hang around in a lazy haze. Satisfied to find we could still spend time outside today, I continued with the morning routine.
On the drive back from a quick grocery run it hit me. At first I would not believe it. Though the evidence was clear. The clouds were swollen and dark, and there were even tiny drops of spittle on my windshield. When I finally caved and switched on my wipers, I decided it was so. Today, was indeed, a rainy day after all. My heart sank a little. It's not that I had big plans. It's that we had no plans at all! What were Aiden and I to do the rest of the day? As we pulled up the drive I was satisfied to see the radio read 12:00 pm. Lunch. Then nap. After Thomas the Train, Cat in the Hat, and a few forced tears, Aiden quieted into a restful sleep.
My usual options for nap time are: sleep, clean, homework. I choose one or two, occasionally all three, depending on what is most needed and what our plans are for the afternoon. Today I decided none of those options would suffice. Despite the fact that I have homework to do, I haven't slept much in days, and I haven't touched the dishes from breakfast, nostalgia has set in. This next hour and a half (two if I'm lucky) I will sit useless to the world.
As I watch the bare branches out my window slowly collect and release rain drops, I think of my rainy days past. I used to love rainy days. In college when I'd wake up to a rainy day I might even smile to myself, knowing that coffee, blankets, books, and plenty of writing were in store for my day. Now I limit myself to cheap decaf, think through my mental list of indoor activities, and call friends in hopes of planning a play date. Coffee shops are reserved for date nights, blankets for bed time, books for vacation (what are those again?), and writing... well, whenever it fits in.
Aiden and I will probably spend this afternoon in a tent making play-doe creations, reading books, and wrestling with the dog (well Aiden will, I'll just be the ref). Perhaps I'll make myself a cup of cider, pretend The Cat in the Hat is a Connie Willis novel, use Aza as a blanket, and remember Aiden is much more exciting than any journal entry I've yet to make. And most likely, one day I'll be nostalgic for rainy days like these.