Donuts and Toothpicks

I love these photos. When I hear the nightly chatter of dramatic play, song and stories, fights, apologies and compromises. Typically I'm busy, doing work or chores, but on an impulse - which I am known for - I'll race down the stairs, hurdle the gate and grab the camera. You have to move fast, the mood can change in an instant. Then, climbing silently up on the sink I peer over the top of the shower curtain and, "Hi guys!" Snap!

It's been a month since I've stopped to write, and oh, how the the list of posts and topics I'd love to expand on, moments I want to capture, awesome adventures we've gotten into and more - clogs my brain. But I just need to get one down tonight else I might not recover.

Perspective. I always seem to need it. I'm fortunate to have dear friends help me realize it. My kids make me believe it. Parenting can sometimes feel like a vacuum. A hefty Dyson Animal. A vacuum of your heart, time, brain, energy and...what...wait...lost my train of thought. Twice in 10 days I've climbed back over my fence to break in through the back door to get my car keys, finding I wasn't the slightest bit phased. But I guess it's the best kind of vacuum of your brain if you ask me.

Sometimes I get a touch too focused and lose sight of what I'm doing, which is a lesson I learned from a lollipop today. Roland asked for one, reminding me he's never had one. A day later I realized it might not be the end of the world now for him to have one. At FIVE years old. Sorry dude, these things just don't occur to me. So tonight, at Publix, when we would typically wait patiently for a cookie, which I would likely split between the two of them to share I let Roland pick out whatever donut he wanted from the bakery window display. (Boy, did he love that!) OK, I let him pick from a selection of approved pastries, but it felt like I was buying a lollipop. Baby steps I guess.

One half of a cinnamon sugar donut twist later. Nothing. The world didn't implode, he didn't fall apart. There were no melt downs. In fact, he was a super huge help the entire night. And later, when the requested spaghetti and meatballs were stalling, I let them eat all the meatballs with toothpicks. And when Aria wanted to feed the ducks, turtles and fish, you bet the groceries can wait.

We think we are doing a good job, but as parents, we never know. Sometimes we need a good poke, some perspective, and a touch of pause to give ourselves some affirmation that we're doing a good job. We're all going to be alright, likely better. Each of us has our own donuts and toothpicks, and likely, we should have more of them.

Meanwhile, (deep breath), I'm going to share some perspective on my kids. They are awesome. They really are. I'm crazy about them. And I can't wait to see what wonderful things they can teach me tomorrow. Thank each of you, my fellow parents and friends, for reminding me of that. You are doing an amazing job, too, and it shows in YOUR awesome kids.

Spoiler alert: Coming soon - too many April photos to view in one sitting. Sorry, just a warning. You see, I have these two subjects that are just so fascinating!