I missed writing yesterday but just couldn't find the moment where time met inspiration. So here we are; a quiet Sunday morning. I didn't mistype- quiet it is as the kids spent last night at Camp Grandparents. Bliss. We had a holiday party last night, and in addition to needing to prepare in 85 different ways, I knew it'd be nice to a) not worry about waking them up, and b) not worry about them waking us up this morning. On Friday evening, I took Jack to Tae Kwon Do to test for his super-blue belt. Not only did he pass but also turned around in the middle of it, in the midst of ten other children and his instructors, to say, "I love you, Mom." Oh, these little moments of perfection. They help sustain me, all parents I'm sure, in the times that are decidedly less than good.
Like later that night when I was awakened on four separate occasions: by Tom coming home late for a work party; by Jack twice waking up in real tears about a too-real dream he was having about Oliver throwing his chess trophy on the floor and breaking it; and so forth. He was so immersed in the dream that I finally had to turn on all his lights and force him to look at his pristine trophies. I felt for him, but really, four times in a night did not make for an Em-i-lis that felt good yesterday. And yesterday was ugly out with cold, gray, and icy the aggressive norm. So I cooked and took a nap and then got ready and had a ball.
Not the best pics, but alas. Happy Sunday!