My alarm went off at 4:30 this morning and I threw some clothes on and stumbled downstairs to cook Dylan some eggs and toast. He was all bright-eyed and happy to see me. He had to be at his school at 5am for the bus ride to the 15K he was running today. (Good grief, I would never be bright-eyed about getting up at 4am to go run 9+ miles on a Saturday morning, but he gets this trait from his father, and I play the dutiful and supportive mom who will never let him leave the house--no matter how early--without a good breakfast, and we call it team work.)
He even thanked me. He said, "Thanks for always getting up and cooking me breakfast, Mom."
He's welcome, of course.
"And thanks for always being willing to drive me to the school. Since it's so early lots of the kids' parents make them walk so they don't have to get up."
I looked up at the sky and I could see the Little Dipper shining brightly. Walk? It's pitch black out here! Crazy people are the only ones awake. The crazy running people and the crazy bad people. No way you're walking. You're so welcome.
This afternoon I went with a friend up to the Glendale building to serve lunch to 200 teens who gathered for a portion of Youth Conference. There was my Lyns, having fun, a little dazed. The kids didn't get in till 2am last night after their fun with the Special Needs Adult Carnival service project and then some play time at an Olympic gymnastics gym. But tonight is her first dance! Tonight she will dance with a boy for the very first time, and I won't be there. Which is good and bad, because I'd cry. (And probably laugh.) But I practiced with her, and I was the boy. Oh, my gosh. A boy holding her waist. Or her hands. She knows not to do the asking, and never to say no to a boy who gets up the courage. I hope she doesn't spend her entire teen years being a wallflower like her mother was during the fast songs.
We dropped leftover food off at the local park for the homeless people. I couldn't stand to let it go to waste. And I brought all the recycling home to put in my blue can. (Since this Church is true, shouldn't they recycle?)
Aiden and Dylan (he ran his 15K in one hour and 24 minutes) were waiting for me at home. Conor was still sleeping. The boys and I played Buggo. Have you ever played Buggo? You should buy it and play it with your kids. It's one of those games that is so easy, and yet, it doesn't make a mother look anxiously at the clock, like how much longer do I have to pretend to enjoy this? Really, it's cool. And fast.
Then Aiden asked me to read to him from On the Banks of Plum Creek, while he did a Search-A-Word that I'd printed off the computer. I love those books. You know, they used to call me Laura Ingalls. Ma and Pa went for a walk into town and left Mary and Laura to tend Carrie. A big storm blew in, a blinding blizzard, and Mary and Laura had to bring the woodpile in. Lucky ducks. I was born in the wrong time.
It was feeling rather cozy. Lazy, reading, games, movies. Who cares that it's 90 degrees in November? Let's have hot cocoa and pretend that it's actually fall.
And so we did. It's been a lovely afternoon.