Fridays are "rest days" so instead of prying myself out of bed and away from my snuggly boys at 5:30 this morning, I luxuriated under the comforter until almost 7. I was doing that thing (you know, the thing?) where you go in and out of sleep, never fully committing to either one. I felt my son breathing gently next to me, his warm little body cupped next to mind, little heart beating steadily, peaceful dreams moving across his face. On the other side of him, my husband -this man who somehow lives with me, loves me, cooks dinner and does dishes and picks up dog poop, hugs his son, tells us both how much he loves us each day- rolling over in his sleep, sighing and stretching one strong arm over both of us.
Even in my twilight, between wakefullness and sleepfullness state, I filled my lungs with the quiet air of our bedroom and thought, "wow."
This is what a rest day is to me. Rest for my body. Rest for my soul.