With only a few minutes until the bus was to roll up in front of our house this morning, Jack broke into Charlie’s therapy box and found a rainbow palette of craft paint which he opened and used to tie-dye the stairs, the rugs in the entry, and the walls.
At some point as we scrubbed the rugs, which unfortunately remain tie-dyed, I told Dutch that this is why we need to live in cardboard. Smeared paint? Code Brown? Spilled Coke/applesauce/GoGurt? No problem, just pick up some more cardboard. Voilà. Problem solved.
In hindsight I sound so cool and collected about it, but in reality I said some hearty swears.
The boys boarded the bus. Truman went to preschool, and I Could. Not. Even. Until I drank a big Coke.
And then the rest of the day was pretty great. I went to Costco to replenish the foodstuffs pillaged by the guys over spring break. It was just me and every single other mom of many kids there plus all retirees in the valley. Basically a zoo, but we got it done.
I took a walk to the park with Truman and bumped into people I like on the way there and the way back.
I had chips and hummus for lunch.
There was laundry, of course.
And emailing people, and calling people.
I played “If You Could Hie to Kolob” and “Be Still My Soul” on the piano for the guys when they got home and were inhaling cheese and chocolate milk and Apple Jacks.
The sun flooded my kitchen and family room during the pre-dinner witching hour, a small, vital infusion of life during the hairiest part of the day.
We had Family Night, and it was sort of okay. Jack sat in the tee pee, Charlie lined up superhero therapy cards, and Truman rolled around on the floor. We sang, prayed, and talked about our eternal spirits. I’m not sure how much sunk in, but there was togetherness and I wasn’t swearing.
I ate Girl Scout Thin Mints. They really go down smooth, you guys.
Dudes went to bed without fuss. Boom.
I climbed into bed at 8:58.