Today’s Saturday morning is spent around the table, with last night’s challah as today’s French toast. We allow ourselves to get excited about an adventurous weekend for which we are long overdue. A birthday party! A snowshoe hike! Perhaps a film screening! Let’s get out there today! I brought rapid tests home from work! There is the usual flow of the breakfast hour, with giggles and arguments and the extra moment to sit and stare and notice a rubber tree unfurl a new leaf before our very eyes. Is there anything more glorious?

Momma was so cheap, she split the two-part covid tests between two of us every time… my husband and I fortune-tell of the pandemic stories our kids will share decades from now.

Sometimes the most obvious thing, also often the hardest thing, is what sets us free when said aloud in the moment. As simple as I feel insecure or please be kind to me or I’d like to be honest and say what I see. I did that a lot this week; feelin’ free on a Friday. Shabbat shalom.

The wintry walk out of work never fails to bring me joy, especially when it’s snowing and everyone smiles at each other and pauses the scraping of cars to shout things like safe travels home to you! Indeed.

Not too worried about the groundhog and his shadow today, as we are owed several weeks of gloriously sparkling winter here regardless. Looking forward, though, to wintering here beyond a pandemic… when an escape to somewhere warm stands a chance of carrying on without a hitch.

Between the wipes and the oil and the foam, I can almost forget about the canceled vacations of which we’ve lost count and the flight credit which will expire in vain.

Honorable mention: this perfume Facebook told me I should purchase if my winter tropical getaway plans fell through. They did, so I did.

Our kids caught us kissing in the kitchen before dinner tonight and tried the ewww gross route, until we asked them if they’d rather see us fight and get divorced. One tried to smart off about perhaps getting two Christmases, but the rest fell silent on concession. These little ones don’t yet understand the miracle they’re living… or maybe, they do.