It is a beautiful, almost fall feeling, country day.  The sun is out, the breeze is gentle and the humidity on hiatus. I open my back door, my windows, my front door and let my stale and brutalized by the summer house breath deeply.

The smell of fresh cut lawns permeate the air, the dew on the grass glistens in the morning sun.  I hear chainsaws, busy trimming trees, and remind myself that I need to call our tree people.  Maybe tomorrow, today is too nice for ‘business’.

Everyone is in a good mood.  The children have slept, Mommy has gotten more than an hour and even my husband, on the phone, working his 10th straight 15 hour day, seems to be feeling the spirit of the day.

I get up, make my kids a hot breakfast – pause for gasp – and  – wait for it….  they eat it!  It is cinnamon and sugar French toast and seems to be a hit. Despite the fact that I can not find my kitchen sink, I am still pretty proud of myself for at least imitating the life June Cleaver acted out.

I throw the kids in the shower for syrup removal and get them dressed.  I note that it is probably time for me to shower again.  Maybe later.  I dress them, throw the doors open to the vast front yard which has become our favorite park and set them loose.

Megan runs, screeching with glee, free at last, as fast as her little chunky legs will carry her.  Katie thrown on her helmet, climbs on her bike and speeds out of the garage so fast, I think I see dust!  Sarah fumbles and tries to get her helmet on, rejects my help, finally gives up, grabs her baby stroller and takes off.  I breath deeply, again proud of myself for getting them ready and getting them out.

I grab my coffee and bowl of cereal and head out myself.

Despite the fact that by the time we come back in I have spilled my cereal all over the driveway and my coffee, cold by then, thank God, down Megan’s back, it is a glorious morning! We laugh, we play, we run, we clean.  We are a family.  Missing one badly, but still a family.  A gaggle of girls, pink and happy, relishing each other and this day.

A few hours passes and it is lunch time.  I, again, amaze myself by making a hot lunch – mac and cheese – and am pleased to see them eat this too.

I ignore the kitchen once more and opt to snuggle my baby down to nap, kiss my almost 3 and 4 year old and sit down to put in print what I so dearly want to remember about this perfect day.

For today I felt like a real mother. Free of the distractions of modern technology, television and chores.  I played, I laughed, I, for once, experienced true relaxation with my girls.

And, for this, I am so proud of me.