everyone in the house is sleeping and i'm on my way to bed. but cheeto starts crying because she's hungry. so i pad downstairs and all of a sudden, i'm overwhelmed. with love. and gratitude. and the absolute conviction that i am so glad i get to be me.
wearing my hospital socks, given to me right before i gave birth. they are lightweight enough to not make me crazy and have grippers on the bottom. your toddler socks, as bryan calls them. exactly.
my cat is old and starting to look frail and grey. i watch her move and picture the natural history museum and talking notes about dinosaurs. around the corner is extinction and the natural order of things but she is here and opening every cupboard she can find in the middle of the night to get my attention. she picks books off the bookshelves in the middle of the night and i talk to her in the morning when i put them back. how did you like that one? science fiction, really? be careful, that one has cats in it. but they are just metaphors.
i made a delicious dinner the other night. totally redeemed myself after the burnt crock pot fiasco. and we found the best mexican food in the valley. i can't get away from the carnitas. my delicious dinner was also a slow cooked pork. maybe there is something to that.
i watched my children tonight and took a deep breath. looked at them. and tried to memorize the smallest details so that i could tell them later that in november of that year, finn had a propensity for making up her own words and she surpassed my drawing skills by miles. dash was awake more than he was asleep and he still preferred listening to his sister talk to him above anything else. i spent those moments realizing that they are here and they are healthy and their scars are still small. formed by putting away art supplies and not enough treats (for her) and dirty diapers and not being held (for him.) and i am so full of gratitude it feels like a sunburn, blistered and peeling and turning colors.