Day 13. 10 small moments

1. I really like these people... at this table. I feel on the outside of it all, but not because of any unkind feelings from any of them. Not at all. My mind drifts to wonder/wander where I'll be in a year; 5 years; a decade from now.

2. We have a short coffee date after our morning meetings. He's on edge. We joke and banter to keep it light; to dull the blade a bit before he goes forward.

3. I take her to the grocery store, and she's fun to shop with. I show her the different fruits and veggies to see if she reacts to anything in particular. She signs that she wants to eat. Maybe I should have given her a snack first. Rookie move for a third time mom.

4. He works on finishing the door. He's proud of himself for getting my name right. He was always switching our names around... I don't fault him because she and I sound alike and --kind of sort of but not really -- look alike. I write him a check. I've forgotten his last name and so I feel a little sheepish.

5. I listen to him try the Beethoven piece but he's not getting the timing right just yet. I sit beside him and wince. His teacher (sitting on the other side of him and my mirrored opposite) is wonderfully patient and quirky - the perfect combo.

6. Grilled chicken pasta with mushrooms and Alfredo sauce. Comfort food pasta.

7. We're together, heads down, tweaking the menu pricing and naming parameters. We argue about something so banal as to what can truly be considered "The Classic." My apprehension is based on its overuse, and my consideration of it as lazy terminology. Long story short, we won't use it... I play the card.

8. She's asleep and so he leaves with his toolbox to work a little on the lights in the cafe to get them just so. These are the small things that no one knows he still does. 

9. I tuck the boys in after negotiating down to one loooooooooooong book about the Grand Canyon. I almost sputter out and die, but a few emails are waiting for my attention.

10. He sneaks down and lays on the couch across from me. He "accidentally" watched Scooby-Doo a couple of weeks ago with his brother. The zombies traumatized him, poor guy. I remember watching that show when I was a latch-key kid. I timed it so that I would turn Scooby-Doo on, and then grab a bowl of cereal while the scary title sequence played out. I let him fall asleep on the couch.