She complained last night that she didn't want to go back to school today. Spoke about a class that I wished would be her favorite but is her very NOT favorite, and my heart felt sad and frustrated (not because it wasn't her favorite, but that it truly could have been her favorite).
I got up this morning and looked over the list I made last night: pray, light fire, start laundry ... had gone through cookbooks to plan out meals for the week's grocery run. Found a recipe for a rich and decadent hot chocolate. Looked for some breakfast and healthier treat ideas. Got up and packed Erin's lunch, put together the hot chocolate (using coconut milk instead of rice milk so that the fat would satisfy a back-to-school belly) and baked up a pumpkin bread.
I woke Erin up. It was still dark. She gave a groan.
"Would you like some hot chocolate with breakfast?" I asked.
Not a resounding yes, but it did grab her interest. Seemed like hot chocolate would win over Monday complaints.
"Lanie, do you want some hot chocolate with breakfast?" I asked.
The kids came downstairs, and I sliced up servings of pumpkin bread, pulled out the fun little winter mugs and whipped cream. I sat at the table with them as they ate.
"I thought it was a dream when you said hot chocolate!" Lanie said. "I could smell something good, but it didn't smell like hot chocolate."
And then suddenly, Erin got up from her seat and climbed into my lap and wrapped her arms around me.
"Are you ok?" I asked.
She nodded she was. And then I made the connection--gifts being her love language, and that I had served her with foods she really liked--she saw it as a gift. And that spoke love to her.
Happy Monday, little one. Happy back to school. Sad that our family is still splintered, but making the very most of the time we are together.