I am a lady in waiting, taxing my virtues in patience with each new day. I am waiting for boxes to begin packing while drumming up all sorts of organization schemes for our new abode. I am waiting to get moved in and begin the process of feeling settled as I also wait to have this baby. I am waiting to learn whether the latest Chism will be a boy or a girl. I am waiting to finish this Chemistry course and amass nearly the last few credits toward my much sought-after degree. Gosh! I even find myself waiting to get up in the morning. I am by nature a morning person, but third trimester with two toddlers necessitates a certain number of hours of sleep. Though I wake up before I need to get up, I force myself to rest a bit longer so I won’t be miserable through the day. I find my days busy and dragging at the same time. I am constantly reading children’s books to eager little ears, cleaning up the consistent accumulations of crumbs and spills from our tile floor, fixing snacks and little meals, bribing little people to get in and out of the car, and to march in to the house, and to leave the neighbors’ hose, flowers, cat and dog alone. I’m completing my lists, but they aren’t packed with my agenda because this season of life necessitates my agenda being partially consumed with meeting little people needs.

Two special delights of this day included a conversation with a dear, encouraging friend, and a new book I ordered from the library for MYSELF. Oh, it has been far too long since I’ve found myself lost in another world, or looking forward to a free moment to find out what happens next, or narrating my own life as I vicariously live the life of an individual who is far more interesting than myself. For the past few years it seems I have read nothing but educational material, personal growth and theology, and other such edification literature. What a frivolous pleasure it is to absorb something that is not even partially necessary! Maybe in the days to come I will be able to prove this particular delight is somehow necessary to my existence. The Spy Wore Red is all about the secretive, alluring life of Countess of Romanones, Aline. The vote is out as to whether this exciting tale is truly autobiographical, as it claims to be. Nevertheless, I am finding that reading of Aline’s life is highly complementary to my own life at this particular juncture. My chemistry studies certainly don’t afford me the same thrill that I’ve gained from studying other subject matter.

Meanwhile, I’m refreshing long-lost favorite children’s literature to read to my two-year-old. Blueberries for Sal, Curious George Goes to the Hospital, The Biggest Bear, Thidwick, the Big-Hearted Moose, The Foot Book, and the like. I work out deals with Joel so that I get to pick certain books in between stories of Thomas the Train. Joel especially likes to be nestled up in my lap when we are reading. I find my lap to be rather extraordinarily full these days!!