Saturday normal.

Saturday night. Saturday normal.  The clock ticks slowly towards midnight.

Nearly the middle of July. 2011.

A movie on the tube.  Dog chews on his braided rope toy.

My face is illuminated by the laptop and the middle little makes sure the specific spot on his blankie is getting enough attention.   He is battling the latest download in the iPad.

If I had the energy to get up, I’d pour another glass of white wine.  Chilled long enough that the bite of it is gone.  Maybe it’s not necessarily the energy, but the fact that if I get up now, the smallest little will be disturbed.

It’s not every night that they are still awake during the Cinderella hours.  When He said that we should let them start staying up later to acclimate them to Rome, I agreed.

Although the downfall of them being used to the time zone once we arrive, is possibly missing an early morning fruit market.

Wearing my makeshift pajamas.  The same tank top I wore all through the day.  Pants that are now shorts – due to my irritation one night when the aircon wasn’t cooling to my satisfaction.

The biggest one of them all is holed up in his room.  Has been all day.  His bestest left our house a couple of hours ago and I can see the dread in their eyes.  They have five days until their paths stop crossing.  I don’t quite know how to help them understand that life is bigger than this moment.

The construction from across has ceased for the weekend.  At least we hope it’s finished for a couple of days, a respite.

There is bacon in the fridge for the morning.  The big clock on the wall still refuses to tell the time and my project of memories on the wall still remains unfinished.

Tomorrow will bring quiet.  Peace.  The solace of JUST US.  Sundays are like that around here.