It's the Little Things

Okay, I've been up since 3:00 a.m.—not by choice. I thought about going back to sleep. I wanted to go back to sleep. But I couldn't go back to sleep with projects still hanging over my head. Adding to the distraction was the sound of footsteps out on the adjoining deck. My neighbors run a limousine service and are often up at odd hours to make airport runs, so the sound of footsteps outside wasn't surprising, but it was the only sound in the midst of silence and my restless mind couldn't shut it out. After a couple of hours of effort, and after reasoning that I had crashed early (around 9:00 p.m.) last night, after all, I decided 5:00 a.m. was a reasonable time to be up for the day, so here I am at the computer once more, gearing up for work.

Yesterday I took my son to the park for a prearranged playdate with two sweet kids, ages three and six. My son wanted to do whatever the six-year-old did, including balancing on the curb and lying on the bridge of the play structure. It's amazing and amusing to watch the way kids feed off each other's energy; I could watch it all day. Just lovely.

After we came back from the park, the wee one was tired but not in the mood for a nap, so we drew for a while. When he made what he considered a mistake in his drawing, he started showing signs of a tantrum, so I whisked him off to the giant bed for a snuggle. We talked for a while, and after he felt better he rested his head on my belly, gave me a bunch of kisses and told me, "Bless your heart, Mommy. You can keep all those kisses."

sigh