Full House

It's one of those days when you wish that your house had a giant sunroof that could open and close like the ones in cars. Sitting in a rocking-like chair in the bedroom with the laptop on a little table in front of me and the window open, I can hear the happy cries of children as they call out to each other in their play. The sunshine is trickling in and the soft blue skies seem to wink at me. My husband has taken our three young nephews as well as my youngest brother out, and so I have the house to myself. Well, ourselves: Icewind and Keani, I think, are both sad that their rowdy playmates have gone, and relieved to have a couple of hours not getting picked up, tugged, or climbed on (in Icewind's case).
I have to say, it's been a wonderful visit thus far. The room where they stay was just painted and decorated, and now, of course, it looks like an explosion of clothes and toys. Through constant effort, we've managed to contain the 'disaster' to the one area, for the most part. But despite the mess, the fights (they are boys, and brothers, after all), the mysterious lack of 'ears' on the youngest when he is asked (and then told) to do something, the house is just so much fuller - and I mean this in the most wonderful (and not literal) way - when they are here.