I took my family to see Beauty & the Beast tonight, and sat in awe and wonder once again at our local theater community. I told Chris I’d audition if we ever did Fiddler on the Roof, but he asked the mayor and it turns out we already did it a few years back. Did I mention the mayor produces the Nutcracker ballet and many of the plays and musicals? I. Love. This. Town.
There is a theme that repeats itself most Saturday afternoons, where I remember it’s my only real day off and I cannot believe every single thing hasn’t gone right in the week leading up.
Some of it is about me learning to relax, and some of it is about my family learning to love me better. It’s both.
Tonight we went to dinner with some friends and their new baby. At the restaurant, we saw some other friends and their new baby, and some other friends and their old baby with a new baby still on the inside. I looked at my teen and tweens and thought I wish and also glad that’s behind us.
I am the same woman who screams coral and school bus yellow and maybe cobalt all summer long and then black, black, black as soon as winter sends a whiff. My sense of fashion shifts with the seasons and I am learning to be okay with it. I’m not broken. I’m dynamic.
There is nothing quite like saying exactly what you mean.
A day of firsts…
Snowflakes fell on our home in the morning, heralding of winter’s approach.
Flu season made its debut with an inaugural community case diagnosed in the emergency room.
My daughters secured library cards, checking out books only to devour their haul on the way home.
Mom and Dad went for a walk before bed and made out in the rain (and under the house).
What is it that makes me want to center myself in my son’s birthday? Gosh, dang. That was a magical, terrible, life-changing twenty-two hours for me. I remember it as fuzzy as a hundred years ago and as clear as yesterday.