The following entry was written by Liz Thompson of This Full House. Liz can also be found at Blogher -- Contributing Editor (Fashion and Shopping) and on Growing Pains -- The Imperfect Parent

“I'll tell you how the sun rose a ribbon at a time.” ~Emily Dickinson

I felt my husband’s breath on my neck, opened my eyes and couldn’t remember ever falling asleep. I listened to his soft snoring and tried to orientate myself while feeling a heaviness somewhere just below my waist. I tried to shift my weight a little and began to panic.

I couldn’t move.

Years of exploiting my uterus, juggling infants and lifting toddlers have at last taken its toll, and I thought to myself, “That’s it! I’m finally and completely, paralyzed.”

Then the dog yawned and grunted in displeasure as I willed my legs closed and kicked him…all 90 pounds of him…off the couch.

What the heck time was it?

As I waited for the blood to circulate back into my legs, I turned my head toward the wall clock, but couldn’t make out the time, turned my attention toward the window and saw that the sun was not yet up.

Good.

I slowly worked my way to the other end of the couch, carefully climbed off and tip-toed my way upstairs, hoping the dog wouldn’t follow.

He didn’t.

I lowered the temperature on the air conditioner, stretched out on my bed and let out a sigh of relief, “It is Saturday…daddy’s off…and mommy gets to sleep in.”

After about half an hour -- and sometime after five o’clock -- still wide awake, I finally gave up and went back downstairs.

I didn’t know what to make of myself.

Falling asleep before ten o’clock…every night this week!?! Waking up before the alarm and…more importantly…way before I had to!?!

Totally goes against my grain as an avid night owl and sometime insomniac.

I sat in the rocker and considered my options:

1. I could fold the six loads of laundry sitting on the playroom couch from yesterday. 2. I could put away the clean dishes and load the dish washer with the dirty dishes from last night. 3. I could put away the folded clothes sitting in the upstairs hallway for…um…long time. 4. I could collect the wet bathing suits from the playroom floor and hang them out on the clothes line.

**whispering**

“Rudy.”

**silence**

“Psst…Rooo…dee!”

Nothing.

“Want to go for a walk, boy?”

This time, he lifted his head and belched.

“Nice one!”

**tail wagging**

“What do you say? Wanna go walkies?”

He looked as surprised as I was, and I imagined his total disbelief as he slowly got up, stretched and plunked himself back down on the ottoman.

Shrugging my shoulders, I got up from the rocker and went back upstairs to change into a sports bra, find my sneakers and grab a hoodie.

Curious, the dog followed.

I slipped into my sneakers and the dog showed signs of waking. Only once I grabbed for his leash did he head for the front door.

I can’t remember the last time I saw the sun rise…voluntarily…and as I stood in the middle of my front yard contemplating which direction to take, I breathed in deep and, for the first time in a very long time, tasted the sweetness of a new day.

There I was…walking along at a pretty good clip…just me and the dog…and this time I found myself thankful that he was stopping at every tree, post and, electrical box (not telephone or electrical poles in this direction) because it gave me reason to stop as well…to look…to listen…to smell something other than a sour load of laundry or an overused cat litter box.

And I just stood there -- as the dog sniffed the stop sign -- and I cried.

How many times have I felt as if I were looking for something…taking the simplest things for granted…when there was beauty all around me and in the very air that I breathed.

I don’t know how long we were…because I didn’t have my watch…nor was I caring at the moment…but right around the time I felt the heat begin, I took off my hoody and picked up my pace.

I heard a few cars go up and along the highway two blocks over and decided to head back home.

And that’s when I saw it.

The sky changed -- from a grayish-blue -- and now had shades of pink and green. And I couldn’t help but stop and watch. I hunched close to my dog and, for the first time, I gave him a hug and said, “I love you…you big Doofus!”

Today is going to be a good day.