Progress

183. At 5:01 on the nose, I got up from my desk, stepped outside, and quickly pushed the empty stroller a few quick blocks to our babysitter's house, the sweet smell of lilac and clover thick in the air. After Jack said his goodbyes, we strolled home at a leisurely pace while I fielded a steady stream of questions: What's that? ...and that? ...and that? Where are we? Where Daddy? Where Jo? Where my sungassies? When Jack go MiMi house? Jack pway baseball? Where my butt?
     
     Glen was off to pick up Jo, so Jack and I were on our own for the evening. We had an easy dinner capped off by Jack feeding Mommy from a shared bowl of perfectly juicy strawberries. Then there was the nightly walk to the square, where we took turns chasing each other across the grass, Jack squealing with laughter and throwing himself into my arms. Walk back home, bath, stories, hugs, bed.
     
     Sure, there were a couple minor meltdowns for good measure, but I'm learning to take those in stride as just part of the two-year-old territory. Mostly my evening with Jack left me feeling deeply grateful for the easy joy of our lovely little family routines.
     
     Lately I'm finding more and more that I can let life's sweetness sink in, while the tougher stuff rolls off my back just a little more quickly. That's some progress, people.