This morning, after David left for work, I finally got out of bed.  Once slipping into my flip flops that stay on all day, I got myself into the kitchen to start the coffee.  It was gray outside; gray but cool.  The only sound in the entire house was the sound of the birds singing their morning carols.  At that moment, I realized how much I have become accustomed to the loud morning antics of my girls.  They were over at my mom's and I was by myself for an hour before their return.  Now they are back, resting on the couch after hours in the back yard, watching 101 Dalmatians.  It's a slow day.  And that's ok by me.