Now that co-op is over, there is a renewed energy--even while we still school through math.
She tells me when she heads up to bed, "Mom, wake me up at seven!"
The difference here makes.
Today, I fixed banana pancakes for breakfast.
|house blend pancake mix|
The sun is peeking out.
I'm minutes away from ordering mulch.
Erin will help me make protein bars later this morning.
Over the weekend, I watched a friend's children so she and her husband could attend a wedding. The kids occupied themselves a lot; at one point, we played intense games of Connect Four (so fun!) and Apples to Apples Junior. Lots of laughter and smiles.
Yesterday, Lanie approached me and said, "Will you play a game with me? I had so much fun playing with you (Sunday) and I realized it had been a really long time since we had done that--just us."
"Sure," I said, and it made me pause to think how much it meant to her. The simplest things can carry complex meaning.
Time together is my love language. My kids respond to it.
"If he remembered his family, that was because a family is the one thing nobody can ever forget." (Abel's Island by William Steig, page 100)
Lanie plays piano music. Erin is outside visiting ants. The dog moves from the sunny spot to the shade.
I run my hand across the potted mint and inhale its peppery scent.