Yesterday was a cloudy rainy day and the granddaughter decided we'd have a pajama day. She spent the whole day in her flannel footie pj's. We colored, we did puzzles and we played video games-I am now hopelessly addicted to Shopikins and couldn't wait for her to fall asleep last night so I could swipe my kindle from her and play, found myself cussing at the little demonic smiling fruit characters.

I ordered the Anne of Green Gables books to read to her before she got here but decided they were a little too advanced for her-so now I'm reading them! I never read them and I find myself enchanted with the simpler life of Prince Edward Island early 1900's.

I'm not sure I'm going to be ready to re-join the grown-up world in a few days. Why, oh why, were we so eager to leave childhood behind? I remember how in the first few months/years after I quit drinking, I felt like a child again. The world was a wonder I couldn't wait to wake up to each morning. I want to get that back and hold on to it. It's ironic that the most difficult time of recovery, is also the most enchanting, miraculous, amazing time if you make it so. It's not about deprivation and punishment, it's about exploration and discovery, like you're a kid on the first day of summer vacation.

How the Heck Are You?