My alarm won't go off every morning to make sure that all household members (furry, feathered, and otherwise) have breakfast and are properly equipped for the day and that certain members of the household are out the door on time. Mornings have a slower pace, nice, because I've never been much of a morning person.
Organized activities are minimal, no soccer or basketball practice messing up dinner or chopping every Saturday and Sunday neatly in half, so that we get nothing done.
I am able to spend more time with my daughter, who is good company.
The farmer's market is open, and it is warm enough to enjoy it.
My garden is in full swing, collards, kale, scallions, cilantro and strawberries are ready now with other cool things to come.
Camping, got to have at least one venture to primitive living and escape the house. When I'm away from home I don't think about the trim painting that needs to happen, or have to look at the nasty white floor in the kitchen that looks like it needs to be washed despite the fact it was just washed. (Personal rant: Who are the sick people who install white floors in homes??? We garden, some of us ride horses and we have a large dog, the floor is never clean for more than fifteen minutes.) Cooking with wood for a week is fun and it sure makes me appreciate the microwave and the oven when I return.
The cats become my alarm, usually they come and sit either on my pillow, so that I breathe fur while they yowl at me or the sit on my chest and rub their noses and whiskers across my face. They know I don't "do" cats in my face.
Organized activities are minimal, so every day my daughter tries to see what she can come up with to entertain herself, usually involving friends who live several miles away or activities that are expensive and a minimum of a half hour's drive away. She isn't old enough to drive, so I become "chauffeur extraordinaire." and "the mom who says, "No!."" (sometimes I get the urge to say "nee." but she wouldn't get it--she is finally of the age when she can be introduced to Monty Python, she'll get it).
Though my daughter is good company, sometimes I just want to talk to adults or just plain old don't want to talk. That introvert thing gets in the way of parenting, that's why I have only one.
Camping, I hate the packing. Last year, I forgot the dog food (I remembered everything else!), but she didn't mind eating leftovers.
Sweat. Living in humid-land, life is hot and moist and a bit smelly.
Chick update: The girls are doing well, they are more active now and have little feathers growing in on the tips of their wings. Since it has been hot, they have been able to go outside briefly (they are supposed to be kept between 85-90 degrees at this point), they seem to enjoy it. They are perching on my daughter's hands, much to her delight.