It's Easter Sunday. That it's Easter Sunday doesn't mean a whole lot to me though. That it's Sunday, that it's quiet, that the sun is pouring through the window of my kitchen which smells of New York (coffee and cinnamon bagels), that we weren't working yesterday and we aren't working today, that birds are chirping in the trees, that I just had a stolen week away from the internet, that I spent not one but three days this week with friends: in cafes, in the sunshine, in my kitchen eating homecooked food, that an hour has gone buy where I sat quietly in the morning light reading a book alone, that Amelia has learned to roll over and that Ella discovered a slice of lime last night, that we are planning not one but two adventures with our girls this year, that my husband is my best friend and my babies smile when they see me; those are things that mean a whole damn lot to me.
Happy Easter, if that's your thing. Happy Sunday if it's not.