G:  “Mom, is a tarantula hard or squishy?”

Me: “I don’t know honey.  I’ve never squeezed one.  I know that they’re kind of fuzzy.”

G:  “I mean if you stick a fork in one, would it go through or would you really have to make a crunch?”

Me: “uh…”

Willis:  “This is the worst conversation I’ve ever heard.”

The morning was not off to a good start.  I hadn’t slept well and I woke up with a headache.  I was grumpy.  I really, really wanted to go back to bed.

I lifted a groggy Pinky out of her crib.  As I changed her diaper, she protested being up so early.  When I pulled her little sausage

arm through the sleeve of her shirt, she pointed to a sock monkey (the theme of her room) and very clearly said, “monkeys”.

I was shocked.  She says “mamama” and “daddy”, but that’s about it for her verbal skills (although make no mistake, she makes her wishes known quite clearly).  She hasn’t even said “no” yet, a word to which she has quite a bit of exposure.

“Monkeys?!?!  I said.

“Monkeys,” she confirmed.

And then we celebrated.  I showered her with praise and kisses.  We ambushed Willis as he got out of the shower with our good news.  We did a monkey dance of happiness.

And just like that, grumpiness turned to joy.  Mental and physical exhaustion transformed into gratitude.  With that one word, I no longer dreaded the day ahead.

I appreciate Pinky’s reminder to focus on my blessings and the opportunities that each day brings.

Monkeys to you!

Caught In the ‘I’ll Do It Myself’ Cycle - Wall Street Journal

How To Do It ‘All”: Get Lots of Help – Wall Street Journal

Saying Yes To Yourself - Illuminated Mind

I Am Enough – Tracey Clark

Get out of my face.

Six is proving to be a strange age.  On one hand, my sweet, thoughtful, funny little boy has turned into a loud, gross, hyper spaz.  G is always right up in people’s faces.  I say ‘shhh’ so much, the muscles in my face actually get tired.  While I love him to pieces, he’s a lot to take.

On the other hand, G is so smart and our conversations (when he can calm down long enough to have one) are getting more and more interesting.  His explanation of how popcorn works and how Legos are made are great fun.  He’s fascinated by the flags of the world, so we’re studying geography together.

Since he started first grade two weeks ago, he’s developed an interest in being helpful.  He wants to pull weeds with Willis, he wants to carry the bags out to the car for me in the morning.  He’s been a great help.

After dinner the other night, G said, “Mom, can I please, please, please learn how to do the dishes?”

“Um…yeah.”  So we had some on-the-job training.

“See how it’s like a puzzle to find the best way to fit all the different shaped dishes into the dishwasher?”

“Yeah.  Cool!”

“After you put the soap in, you close the door and push this button right here.”

“I get to push it?  Awesome.”

“Now that you’re an expert on the dishes, you want to learn how to use the new washing machine?”

“Yes!”

I almost feel like I should warn him about the terrible precedent he is setting for himself, but I will certainly not discourage housework!

New compromise:  You can be loud and talk about boogers as much as you want – as long as you do it while cleaning up the kitchen at the same time.

Grandma wanted some time with the kids this weekend, so Willis and I found ourselves childless on Saturday morning.  We spent the time running errands together at Costco, Lowes, Bed Bath & Beyond and other such mundane places.

Romantic?  No.  Except it kind of was.

We grabbed lunch at the Chinese place we used to go during our poverty years.  We had uninterrupted conversation.  We enjoyed each other’s company and reconnected with each other.

It may not have been a candle light dinner and a stroll in the moonlight, but that’s OK.  The most important elements were there.  Our romantic stroll just happened to be at Target.

What the secret to a long-lasting happy marriage?  It’s a cliché question with no true, comprehensive answer.  Every marriage is different and each relationship has its own unique and complex challenges.  However, I think that perhaps it can all be boiled down to a simple concept – balance.

Is he high energy, while you’re more quiet?  Are you more self-focused or more nurturing of your partner?  Who makes the most money?  Who does most of the work at home?  Is one of you more of a creative thinker while the other is structural and organized in their thought processes?  Who has the more active libido?  Who talks more?  Who has the power in your marriage?  Who’s the most ambitious?  Who makes the decisions?  Who handles the day-to-day details?

There are no right or wrong answers – it’s just a matter of finding the delicate balance between the two of you to make sure everyone’s needs are met.  My idiosyncrasies balance out your idiosyncrasies.  When the relationship is disrupted in either small or large ways, we work together to pull it back into balance.

Perhaps this is why they say that opposites attract.  Because two extremes balance one another out.  And every couple’s balancing act is different.

What do you think?  Does this ring true in your relationship?

I claimed a bit of joy last week.  The past two weeks have been crazy.  In addition to our normal family scurrying, there was something going on every night – a meeting, or an appointment, or a lesson.  All I wanted to do was come home and have a quiet meal with Willis and the kids.  Maybe throw in a load of laundry.  But instead, I was grabbing a burger in the car on my way from one place to the next – again.  It was two straight weeks of go, go, go and I was worn out.

Towards the end of this hectic time, I was surprised to find an unclaimed hour in my day.  It would take me ½ hour to get to my meeting, but I didn’t need to be there for 90 minutes.  I drove towards my destination trying to remember what errands needed to be run and thinking about how I could squeeze some productivity out of this extra time.

Then I saw it.  Coming up on the right was a Barnes & Noble.  “Hey!  I can do something fun with this time!  Why didn’t I think of that?”  And that’s just what I did.  I spent a whole hour in a bookstore.  By myself!

I browsed through the books about architecture and design.  I scanned fiction that I haven’t read yet.  I lingered in the bargain books.  I love books and I love solitude.  I was in heaven.

I may have looked like a completely normal person to other shoppers, but in my head, I was screaming, “Whee!  I’m free!”  I looked at the kids in the children’s section.  “Do any of them need to pee?  I don’t care!  Wahoo!”  Perhaps I need to get out more.

Nonetheless, it was just the boost I needed.  We’re through the busy time on this month’s calendar, so I can get back to my time with Willis, Pinky & G.  I’m grateful for that and I’m extremely grateful for that gift of a free hour.

By the age of 30, a woman should have:

1. One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to and one who reminds you of how far you’ve come.
2. A decent piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in your family.
3. Something perfect to wear if the employer or man of your dreams wants to see you in an hour.
4. A purse, a suitcase and an umbrella you’re not ashamed to be seen carrying.
5. A youth you’re content to move beyond.
6. A past juicy enough that you’re looking forward to retelling it in your old age.
7. The realization that you are actually going to have an old age—and some money set aside to help fund it.
8. An e-mail address, a voice mailbox and a bank account—all of which nobody has access to but you.
9. A résumé that is not even the slightest bit padded.
10. One friend who always makes you laugh and one who lets you cry.
11. A set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill and a black lace bra.
12. Something ridiculously expensive that you bought for yourself, just because you deserve it.
13. The belief that you deserve it.
14. A skin-care regimen, an exercise routine and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don’t get better after 30.
15. A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship and all those other facets of life that do get better.

By the age of 30, a woman should know:

1. How to fall in love without losing yourself.
2. How you feel about having kids.
3. How to quit a job, break up with a man and confront a friend without ruining the friendship.
4. When to try harder and when to walk away.
5. How to kiss in a way that communicates perfectly what you would and wouldn’t like to happen next.
6. The names of: the secretary of state, your great-grandmother and the best tailor in town.
7. How to live alone, even if you don’t like to.
8. How to take control of your own birthday.
9. That you can’t change the length of your calves, the width of your hips or the nature of your parents.
10. That your childhood may not have been perfect, but it’s over.
11. What you would and wouldn’t do for money or love.
12. That nobody gets away with smoking, drinking, doing drugs or not flossing for very long.
13. Who you can trust, who you can’t and why you shouldn’t take it personally.
14. Not to apologize for something that isn’t your fault.
15. Why they say life begins at 30.

A while back, my work team took the Myers Briggs personality assessment.  Then we had a day of training about how our personality types impact our leadership styles and our interaction with each other.  I don’t know how useful the time was, but it was a fun day.  Something in particular that sticks in my memory is our discussion of introversion and extroversion.  The way it was defined was whether or not being around a lot of people in energizing (extroverts) or taxing (introverts).  As an introvert (an INTJ to be precise), I’m more than happy to be around lots of people, but I need to recharge by being alone for awhile. I really like to be alone.

It’s funny how different people respond so differently to the same things.  Some love running.  To them, it’s invigorating and relaxing.  For me, running is more like punishment.  I am happy to spend a whole day with my spouse.  For others, that’s entirely too much togetherness.

When I look at all the things I do in a week, I’m afraid that I don’t see a balance between things that energize me and things that are chores.  Being an INTJ, I made a list – what feeds my spirit and brings me joy? Versus what drains me emotionally and physically?  My goal is to lengthen the first list and minimize the second.

How balanced would your two lists be?  Is your spirit getting enough nourishment?

When I was maybe 13, my family went on a road trip.  My parents and my two siblings piled into the Ford Fairmont and drove for what seemed like an eternity to Minnesota where we had a rented cabin on a lake.  Here’s what I remember about this trip:  Dad yelled.  A lot.  The rest of us did some crying.  There was sand and dirt everywhere – in our beds, in the food, everywhere.  I remember my mother working like a slave to keep us fed, clean and occupied in our primitive home away from home.  I can’t imagine that this was a vacation for her.  I spent most of the week playing video games in the main lodge or begging for more quarters.  Even at 13, I thought, “Why are we doing this?”

Now I think I know.  I make G go for walk with the rest of us even though he’s bored and whines the whole time.  I drag poor Pinky to restaurants she’s too little to appreciate and then work my ass off trying to keep her entertained long enough for everyone to eat.  Because we are a family.  We are going to enjoy each others’ company, godammit.  Imagine my hand smacking my own forehead after I heard my mother’s voice come straight out of my mouth, “We are having fun so KNOCK IT OFF!”

I hope that Pinky & G will have happy childhood memories (as I do).  If I have to drag them kicking and screaming into happiness, so be it.

When is the last time you did something silly for no other purpose than fun?  If you’re like me, up to your eyeballs in diapers and spreadsheets, you can’t remember the last time.  Adulthood can sometimes suck, so let’s reclaim a bit of childhood and try something frivolous today.  Here are some suggestions:

• Build something out of Legos
• Log roll down a grassy hill
• Play with Silly Putty
• Blow bubbles through a straw
• Make a silly face at someone who isn’t expecting it
• Twirl around and make yourself dizzy
• Make up a song and sing it loudly on the spot
• Dress up in a crazy costume – not for Halloween

Think about something silly you used to love as a kid.  Now go do it.  Do you smile just thinking about it?  Please let me know what your silly thing is and how it makes you feel.

Enjoy!

Do you know someone who’s happiest when they’re unhappy?  Someone who can find something to complain about in every situation?

A few months ago, I met someone like this.  “Vivian” is a successful and accomplished woman, married to a nice man for over ten years.  Her children are grown, all healthy and self-sufficient.  On the outside looking in, she has a lovely life – until she speaks.  Everything pisses her off.  Everyone is stupid.  Nothing is as it should be.  Her motto:  Well, that’s just great.

Vivian and I got to know each other a bit, traveling in the same professional circles.  I find that in measured doses, I like her.  It amuses me to see how creative she can get – how far she will reach to turn something nice into crap.

Some examples:

• When she couldn’t get a WiFi signal in the middle of an extravagant meal in a beautiful restaurant – “With the property taxes I pay, I should just stay home where I can get a damned signal.”
• When she sneezed and someone said ‘bless you’ – “Well, somebody ought to.”
• When looking at a beautiful sunset – “You know, it’s pollution that makes those vivid colors.”
• When being congratulated on her tenth wedding anniversary – “Yeah, the prenup finally expired”

Wow.

At first I thought that perhaps she was going through a tough time.  But now I believe that she chooses unhappiness. She works hard to maintain it.  She is more fortunate than most, but she wants to see only dark clouds.  There is no making her happy.  All of this would be fine and dandy.  Do whatever you like.  But her attitude is toxic.  After ½ hour or so, I have to get away from her and join the ranks of other people who are avoiding her.  Her negativity is heavy.  Her barrage of complaints make me tired and make my joints ache.  She is cancerous to a conversation.  If you’re not paying close attention, you will find yourself drawn into complaining about your life too.  Having a nice day?  Here, let me kill it for you.

So like many others before me, I will be polite, but for my own (sometimes fragile) well-being, I will hold her at arm’s length.  And I will feel sad for her.

This is offensive on so many levels, I hardly know where to begin.  She’s telling women that their husbands are inevitably going to cheat and that we’ll all be happier if we just accept it.  Really?!  When someone makes vows to us, we’re unreasonable nags if we expect them to mean it?  I expect to be honored, loved and respected by my husband, just as he promised.

A lot has been written about how womens’ expectations are set too high.  It’s tiresome and infuriating, but what really bothers me about this particular piece is Ms. Hill’s perception of men.  If a male author had written a book comparing women to dogs and calling us mindless animals, he would be burned at the stake.  But evidently it’s OK to treat men with such condescension and disregard.

Call me crazy, but I believe that men are intelligent beings.  They are adults who are responsible for their actions.  When a man behaves badly, it’s because he chooses to do so, not because he is biologically wired to be an asshole.

Can’t we please raise the level of discourse about gender?  Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all be grown-ups and lose the “men are pigs, women are bitches” commentary?

If a couple has a mutual agreement to have an open marriage, great.  I’m all in favor of consenting adults doing their thing.  But perhaps we shouldn’t take advice from someone who calls herself “Sugarbabe” (or pay any attention to her whatsoever).  And perhaps CNN should put some standards in place regarding what they publish.

Dragos Roua – 50 Ways to Start Fresh

Look Far – 27 Questions to Help You Find Yourself

Positively Present – 15 Ways to Live in the Moment

Change Your Thoughts – 8 Ways to Live a Powerful & Joyous Life

Positivity Blog – 7 Powerful Tips to Let Go of Perfectionism

I’m going to tell you the end of the story first – he’s OK.

I got “the call” Tuesday afternoon to come pick up G from camp.  He was complaining of a headache.  When I got there, his head hurt, but he was otherwise fine – talkative, antsy, fine.  So I took him home, gave him some Tylenol and turned on the kind of violent and insipid cartoons that he likes so much.  HE WAS FINE.

In the next 15 minutes, he spiked a 102.5° fever, his eyes got heavy and bloodshot, and his whole body started to hurt.  Then he complained that it hurt when he moved his neck.  My 6-year-old boy said, “Mommy, I want to go to the hospital right now.”  This completed the meningitis checklist, so off we went to the doctor’s office.  In the car, his head kept bobbing.  I couldn’t tell if he was losing consciousness or not and it completely freaked me out.  Mercifully, they got him in right away.  The doctor poked and prodded.  At this point, G was having a hard time sitting up and keeping his eyes open.

The pediatrician ruled out meningitis and other scary emergency diagnoses, but didn’t know what the problem was.  So he gave G some ibuprofen and sent us home, where I put him straight to bed.  45 minutes later when I checked on him, I couldn’t wake him up.  His fever was still raging.  He was mumbling incoherently and couldn’t tell me his name.  Panic began to set in.

Willis scooped him out of bed and carried him to the car.  Off they went, rushing to the emergency room, leaving me alone with Pinky, trying not to let my mind go to the darkest and most frightening places it could find.

20 minutes later, Willis called.  G’s fever apparently broke in the car.  G asked to go to the bathroom and while they were there, he perked up as if someone flipped a switch.  Whatever this was left just as quickly as it came.  G bounced back through my door, completely back to normal.  By 8:00 that night, I was griping at him to quit jumping on the bed and he’s been fine ever since.

After a stiff drink and a good cry, I’m fine too I guess – other than my lingering sense of “WTF?!”

So today, I am grateful for my beautiful, healthy babies.  And for all of the people who were concerned and supportive.  And for the fact that we are fortunate enough to have medical care when too many do not.  And that he’s OK.  And that there’s a happy (although still mysterious) ending to the day’s drama.

Deep breath.  He’s fine.

I’m always grateful for reader comments on this blog.  In fact, I’m grateful that anyone gives a flying fig what I have to say at all.  One comment recently really got me thinking.  Stefanie at What’s the Best that Can Happen (a great site – go check it out) commented, “I am finding that I need to reconnect with my friends even more now as the fog of those first few years with kids has lifted…”

This was an unexpected bit of validation for me.  I hadn’t recognized the diaper-induced fog that I’m muddling through.  And because I didn’t realize that I was in a tunnel, I also didn’t see the light at the end of it.  I feel so much better now!  Thanks Stefanie!

Other moms out there, did you withdraw from pieces of your life when your kids were little?  Did you come back?

When I was a little girl, I thought it was amazing that every mom I knew could scoop food – like macaroni or casserole – and fill a bowl with only a few spoonfuls.  When I tried to scoop the same food into the same bowl with the same spoon, it would take 15 spoonfuls to fill the bowl.  At the time, I thought moms had some sort of magic mom super powers that defied the geometry and physics of the slotted spoon.

Come to think of it, I can never remember seeing my mother sleep.  As far as I know, she never did – she was awake and doing mom things 100% of the time.

30 years later, I now know that I was only glimpsing the tip of the iceberg.  Moms do indeed have super-human powers.  For example:

• They a have ‘spidey sense’ and can tell when a kid is up to no good without looking.
• Moms always know the location of every object in the house, no matter how obscure.
• That spoon thing.
• When picking up the house, a mom can carry 3 times as many loose items as mere mortals.
• Moms can do five things at once and remember 471 bits of crucial minutiae each day (permission slips, sun screen, lunch money, recital dates, etc.)
• Moms can cure childhood injuries with only kisses for anesthetic.
• And mothers have an unlimited capacity for work, exhaustion, love and poop.

We moms work hard to appear normal – we don’t necessarily want the world to know the magnitude of our powers.   But take a moment to thank a mom (yours or someone else’s) today for all that she does.  Any pray that mothers continue to use their powers for heroism.  Just imagine what a couple of mother villains could do to civilization! – so chew with your mouth closed!

I confess that I’m not great about keeping in touch with friends.  I’m busy, they’re busy, time passes.  I’m always amazed (and intimidated) by women who remember other people’s birthdays and anniversaries AND find the time and energy to send a card.  Most of my friends and I have an understanding – I love you.  I think of you often.  If you need me, just say the word and I’ll be there.  Otherwise, I‘ll talk to you in a couple of months.

This weekend, one of my oldest and dearest friends was in town and she and I were able to ditch make arrangements for our children and sneak away for a whole afternoon together.

We had a 2-cocktail lunch and a fun afternoon of chatting and laughing and shopping.  I had almost forgotten what it felt like to have a long, meaningful talk with an adult woman friend.  I had forgotten how good it feels to be with someone whose situation is similar to my own.  With someone who gets me.  With someone who says, “Yes!  Me too.”  It was a really happy day and one that left me feeling validated, hopeful and empowered.

I don’t know specifically at what point I let my friendships go dormant.  When we all had babies I suppose.  But I want them back now.  I need it, which means they probably do too.

So, I’m setting an intention to start making more of an effort to be a more present friend.  I’m scheduling lunch dates and family get togethers.  Today I give thanks for my relatively small circle of girlfriends.  I can’t even think where I would be without them.

How many diets have you been on in your life?  If you’re like me, you lost count long ago.  I think what trips me up  is the dreaded “Day 1″.  There’s so much pressure knowing that today is going to be the make-or-break day that you change all of your habits and become the woman you are in your mind.  Sometimes I approach day 1 with hope and enthusiasm.  Other times, day 1 feels more like a sigh of resignation.  Perhaps I would do well to skip straight to day 12.  That’s enough time to be well on my way, or to have given up already.

Today, I’m having a stressful and hormonal day and I’m eating everything that doesn’t crawl away from me.  So this is not a ‘day 1′ Monday.  Which means that next week, I will want to regain control and build new healthy habits.

I’m resolving to quit having day ones.  I will make healthy choices today or I won’t.  Same with tomorrow.  My goal is evolution rather than revolution.  Perhaps if there’s no stake in the ground that says “today’s the big day!” then I can quit beating myself up and just generally do better.

What do you think?  A wise new perpective?  Or just rationalizing my carb intake?

Donna Brazile’s Rules to Live By

Positively Present – A Surefire Method for Experiencing Joy

Soul Meets World – Walk in Joy

The Bold Life – An Argument for Optimism

I am a very structural and analytical thinker.  Perhaps that’s why demanding my joy has been a challenge for me.  My expectation is that if I do activity A, I will achieve result B.  This has proven to be a ridiculous expectation.

It would be nice if I could put a check mark on my list next to “get happy” and call it done.  But alas, that’s not how it works.  I’ll be happy when…I meet Prince Charming, when I win the lottery, when I lose 20 pounds.  Nope.  The answer is always “Now.”  I can find joy in this very moment, or not.

Joy is available to us at all times, but usually in little bits to be noticed and harvested rather than in the big hunks that most of us are waiting for.  You often have to be still and present to see them, but there they are – those little bits of randomly floating happiness just waiting to be plucked.  And even when you develop the habit of recognizing and grabbing those smidgeons of joy, the energy of it ebbs and flows.  Joy needs nurturing and maintenance.  The work of being joyful gets easier with practice and it’s absolutely worth the effort, but that work is never done.  Fortunately, joy is cumulative.  The more bits you claim, the happier you are!

Just like laundry and dishes, you have to make joy anew every day.  Ha!  What a dismal analogy for something so wonderful!

So take a moment to look around you throughout the day today.  The first sip of coffee, a soft pillow, saying good morning to your family, hitting that green traffic light, warm sunshine, comfy shoes, your favorite song…How many little pieces of happiness can you find that you usually overlook?  By focusing on them and giving them each gratitude, even for just a moment – How do you feel?

G is a very wordly and mature six years old.  While his brain is soaking in volumes of knowledge, I, his annoying mother, am tring to squeeze in two more lessons these days.  1.) Chew with your mouth closed.  We had this down, but evidently when you turn six, manners and volume control go right out the window, so we’re starting over and 2.)  Stop complaining.

I’ve always had a low tolerance threshold for whining, but lately I hear myself telling his to stop complaining more and more often.  If we go to the zoo, he gets upset that we didn’t go to McDonalds after.  He got a new pair of shoes and they weren’t the ones he wanted from the commercial.  He complains about meals before he even knows what I’m putting on his plate.  I point out his many blessings.  And generally, he really is a very good-natured kid.  But he’s moody lately – we’re assuming it’s a phase.

This weekend, after a typically busy Saturday, I was worn out.  Over dinner, I told Willis about how I had done three hampers of laundry, picked up a million toys and run a bunch of errands, all so that everything was all set for me to “go to work” Monday morning.  If I work all week and work harder on the weekends, no wonder I’m tired.  And from his sweet angel face at the end of the dinner table came the words, “Mommy, you should stop complaining.”

Damn.  He was absolutely right (which made me want to smack him, but I suppressed the urge).  Here I was in my beautiful house with my beautiful family eating a beautiful meal.  And I was spending it complaining.  It makes sense that you can’t be grateful for what you have if you’re too busy focusing of what you lack.

So my little smart-mouthed genius and I made a deal.  We both promised to try to go the entire next day without a single complaint.  And we will begin each dinner with everyone telling three things that they’re grateful for today.

Perhaps this will help to clean up both of our attitudes.

I was at the jewelry store yesterday getting my watch fixed.  They told me it was going to take awhile so I wandered across the hall to Williams Sonoma.  As I put a $40 jar of salt back on the shelf and tried not to look offended, I overheard a couple a few yards away from me.  They were planning the mundane details of their afternoon – the type of conversation we’ve all had a million times.  They had to stop at the drycleaner and not forget to drop off someone’s birthday gift.  Just as I was tuning them out, the wife said, “and you have to do the dishes tonight because I did them yesterday.”

I spent the next twenty minutes waiting for my watch and having an imaginary conversation with them in my head.  I imagined myself lecturing this young, affluent couple on why I don’t hold out much hope that their marriage will be a long one.

If they have a system in which they take turns doing the dishes and that’s working for them, great.  Mazel tov.  But if they’re approaching marriage (or life) by keeping score and assuming that it’s going to be fair, there’s trouble on the horizon.  There’s no such thing as 50/50 in marriage.  It’s closer to 100/100.  Both people have to step up and do more than their fair share.  As a matter of fact, we would all do well to eliminate the word “fair” from our vocabularies altogether.

Marriage is not a level playing field.  It’s more like a stormy sea.  You and your spouse are in the row boat together.  If one of you says, “it’s not my turn to watch out for sharks”, you’re both fucked.

1. This mommy business is all-consuming.  Not that I didn’t know that, but holy buckets!  I’m only back a few days and I’m ready for another vacation.  OK – that’s my whining for today.
2. I love our bed time ritual.   It’s my favorite part of the day.

At bed time, G’s boundless energy finally simmers down a little bit.  It’s when we leave Pinky and Daddy behind for awhile and go off alone together.  He tells me about his day and about his innermost thoughts.  We snuggle up and read stories.  We talk about little boy things.

After G is down for the night, Pinky takes a bottle – the only one of the day any more.  The last remnants of her babyhood.  She too fits snugly and warmly into my arms and although she fights it valiantly, her eyes eventually close as she dozes off.

And after all the stories and drinks of water and hugs and kisses, the house of chaos is finally quiet.  Depending on the evening, I will either sidle quietly up next to my husband or by myself under a quilt with a book or the remote.  Doesn’t really matter which because I will be asleep in a matter of just a few minutes either way.  That last 45 minutes of the day often makes the other 14 hours of running around like a headless chicken worthwhile.

So today I give thanks for bed time.

• Getting back in touch with friends and family after being without WiFi for a week
• Coming home to these goofballs after a long journey