a good day
Yesterday was a long day.
It started at 7:30 and continued through a 10:30 pm grocery shopping experience and culminated with both girls, the dog and myself huddled in bed with insomnia until 12:30.
But that's OK - because today was fairly wonderful.
Rico gets to come home tomorrow. He gets a bit more independent each day.
Yoda took a trip to the zoo with one of her kindergarten friends - the first one she's seen all summer - and pet a tarantula.
Punk got a shout out from his boss at work for being the one counselor who keeps the kids having fun even when they have to do boring things like walk through the hall.
Kooka's ever-so-adorable boyfriend made her a belated birthday picnic lunch at the arb and gave her a gift of photos he's collected since they first met in 4th grade. (Yoda's future boyfriends - take note. Actually - Punk take note. This kid's setting the bar pretty high).
Scrappy got a haircut - and a chance to see Rico for the first time in over three weeks. I'm not sure who was more excited.
But there was just one part that was so perfect that Rico and I just sat in his room, with tears on our cheeks and no words between us.
I came home last night to a large wrapped gift. There was a card on top and it said, "From the kids to the adults - open together."
So today, I toted over to Rico's place so we could check it out.
The backstory on this gift is that whenever anyone in our family leaves home for an extended period of time, they take a little tin coffee can called "the box of love" with them. It has notes from our family, little trinkets from home - stuff like that.
The card attached to this big box said, "We know our lives have been so crazy lately, but we love you both so much, and we can't believe that even with all we're going through you still make sure we have everything we need, and are always here for us. You're the best - Yoda, Kooka, and Punk."
Basically we started crying right then, and said in tandem, "OMG, who cares what's in the box, that was the best present of all."
But it got better.
Inside were notes, letters, trinkets, things the kids had made to help us pass the time during doctor appointments. It was even more love.
More love was in that box.
Surely there must be a shortage of it somewhere, because it seems like we've been getting more than our fair share of it lately.
It started at 7:30 and continued through a 10:30 pm grocery shopping experience and culminated with both girls, the dog and myself huddled in bed with insomnia until 12:30.
But that's OK - because today was fairly wonderful.
Rico gets to come home tomorrow. He gets a bit more independent each day.
Yoda took a trip to the zoo with one of her kindergarten friends - the first one she's seen all summer - and pet a tarantula.
Punk got a shout out from his boss at work for being the one counselor who keeps the kids having fun even when they have to do boring things like walk through the hall.
Kooka's ever-so-adorable boyfriend made her a belated birthday picnic lunch at the arb and gave her a gift of photos he's collected since they first met in 4th grade. (Yoda's future boyfriends - take note. Actually - Punk take note. This kid's setting the bar pretty high).
Scrappy got a haircut - and a chance to see Rico for the first time in over three weeks. I'm not sure who was more excited.
But there was just one part that was so perfect that Rico and I just sat in his room, with tears on our cheeks and no words between us.
I came home last night to a large wrapped gift. There was a card on top and it said, "From the kids to the adults - open together."
So today, I toted over to Rico's place so we could check it out.
The backstory on this gift is that whenever anyone in our family leaves home for an extended period of time, they take a little tin coffee can called "the box of love" with them. It has notes from our family, little trinkets from home - stuff like that.
The card attached to this big box said, "We know our lives have been so crazy lately, but we love you both so much, and we can't believe that even with all we're going through you still make sure we have everything we need, and are always here for us. You're the best - Yoda, Kooka, and Punk."
Basically we started crying right then, and said in tandem, "OMG, who cares what's in the box, that was the best present of all."
But it got better.
Inside were notes, letters, trinkets, things the kids had made to help us pass the time during doctor appointments. It was even more love.
More love was in that box.
Surely there must be a shortage of it somewhere, because it seems like we've been getting more than our fair share of it lately.
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