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I love notebooks. I love the feeling of them and the potential the empty pages offer me. My intention is always to fill them with literary genius (I have lofty goals) but they end up filled with scribbles, untouched story ideas and little moments that I don’t want to forget.

While cleaning my desk I found a few forgotten ones at the bottom of my drawer. I found a page, apparently written while in need of a little me time, full of dreams of my perfect day.

Family struggles, pressures and mom guilt all wait patiently outside my bedroom door not making a sound, leaving plenty of room for my butler to come and go as required. I catch up on television shows, geared at an audience over seven years old, on a big screen TV that has magically appeared at the end of my bed. A steaming cup of coffee starts my day and my husband will deliver a pumpkin spice latte later in the afternoon (oh pumpkin spice, I love you).

A gentle breeze sifts through the window screens, carrying just enough chill that I have to snuggle under the blankets to keep warm. The kids are close by ready to be called at my whimsy for hugs, giggles and cuddles while my husband is available for jaunty banter whenever boredom strikes.

I have the freedom to stay in bed all day long with not a worry in the world. No lunches to make or laundry to put away. Just me and the precious few I decide to let in for a few minutes…

What does your perfect day look like?

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