The Longer the Visit . . .

the harder the goodbye -- at least when the visitor is one of my children. I'm sulking because my youngest son just went home after spending the last four days with me. Yes, I know I'm very lucky that my kids want to spend time with me, and that they are all independent and productive members of society. Knowing that doesn't make me less sad when one (or more of them) goes home. A quick visit makes for a quick recovery. Some visits, like this most recent one, are especially great. I try hard to immerse myself in the moment and enjoy every morsel of time with any and all of my sons, but the flip side of that is that it's certainly harder to go back to being home alone, without any of them, when they go back to their normal routines -- and I try to get back to mine.

As the day goes on, I'm trying to inspire myself to get things done -- things other than moping, I mean. My dog and cat are worn out from company, so they're just resting. I could easily do the same, but I want to grade all the papers to return this week. I have plenty of time (but I won't if I keep putting it off). The weather is perfect, which should be helping my mood. Instead I'm thinking about how nice it would be to go outside inside of sitting inside with a pile of papers. So here's my plan: I'll wallow for another fifteen minutes, sit in the sun on my porch for a half hour after that, then grade for an hour at a time -- interspersed with ten minute sun-breaks -- until all the essays are finished. And during those breaks I'll remind myself to be grateful for family time and grateful that we all have our own important things to do when it's over.