A quiet house, and dark. One small light in the hall to shine for Greg when he gets home. One big light in the boys’ closet to chase the nightmares.

Today started at 3 a.m. but I don’t feel tired. Crying baby needing consolation. Cat uncharacteristically walking on piano keys downstairs. Boy entering, then exiting the room where I slept alone last night. Then the cat, then the boy again. Thoughts racing around and chasing sleep and getting nowhere. If only I could solve our future with Midge by middle-of-the-night thinking.

A remarkably good day. Conversation with Tyler about how I felt when I lived in Germany and didn’t understand anything at first. He doesn’t want to learn Spanish, but comes home from kindergarten singing the days of the week in that language.

The pumpkin patch with my dear friend of forever. Talking about babies and discipline and adoption and relaxing together as we chase children. It is an art.

The unexpected delivery of our new dining room chairs also brings us more than enough gigantic boxes to provide glee and drawing space for the rest of the evening.

Greg comes home for dinner, between his out of town trip and his political meeting tonight. We eat orange chicken. Jake wishes aloud that we could eat it every night. Tyler prays, “Dear Lord, Thank you for this day and that we had a good day at school and help us have a good night tonight with no dreams and thank you for this food, amen.”

Tonight I travel back and forth in time while reading Juliet for book club. When I hear a loud voice from the boys room, I run. Jake is tossing in bed, so I sit him upright on my lap and tell him to wake up. Are you having a good dream or a bad dream, I ask him. Good dream, he says. Okay, go back to sleep. I love you. Here is bun-bun. Good night baby.


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