It's my weekly Panera date with myself and I love people-watching as I do my work. I've been here regularly enough to recognize certain groups. There are the domino players, the womens Bible study, the story-swapping old guys, the local motorcycle cops, the collection of young philosophers earnestly discussing religion, the moms who meet up for breakfast with toddlers in tow, the business people engulfed in their laptops and cell phones, the grandparents on a special date with their grandchild...
Nearly every conversation I've overheard has the word Obama sprinkled through it, some more liberally (hah!) than others. I watched most of President Obama's speech on Hulu; even though I didn't have headphones with me I hope I kept the volume low enough not to bother anyone.
Last night K cried in her sleep twice. The second time she woke herself up and called to me and I tip-toed into her room to comfort her. When she felt my hand on her back and heard my voice she scrambled sleepily to her feet and stretched her arms up to me. "Mommy rock?" she asked, still not fully awake. I scooped her up and sat (uncomfortably!) with her (and H!) in the rocking chair, smoothing her hair and wrapping a blanket around us. "More songs?" she asked quietly and I began to hum whatever tune came to mind. Her head was still on my chest and her little toddler hand rested possessively on my arm. We spent 15 or so minutes together like that and it was so, so... I can't even describe the feeling. Refreshing? Nourishing? Rewarding? Wonderful? I wanted it to last forever.
Then I went back to my own bed and couldn't sleep for two hours as is usually the case if I'm awakened early in the morning. Naturally I finally fell asleep right as K woke up for the day.