The Small Stuff

I'm winging it today. No drivetime story, no tantrums from the kids. Despite the content of most of my entries I don't follow my kids around with a notepad and pencil: "Come on baby, Mama's gotta blog!!!"

We had a good, but basically uneventful weekend. We went to the Texas State Fair, a friend's birthday party, grocery store, Home Depot (did you know large recycle bins can run $80?), the typical weekend stops. But when the weather turned cool and rainy on Sunday we found ourselves inside. And I, for one, had nothing to do. The house was straight (as straight as it's ever going to be with two little ones, two cats, and raccoons that bring in fleas). The washer and dryer were full. The kids were co-playing and Bryon was watching football. (If he was smart he would Tivo a sporting event, play it back later and tell me it was live. "Can't do 'X' right now, I gotta see if the Chiefs score." I would never know.)

It was all I could do to just sit there. I needed to, wanted to, get up and 'futz about.' Futzing is my second favorite thing, after sleeping. And then I decided to get down on the floor with the kids and just watch. You know the saying 'don't sweat the small stuff?' Well, don't overlook it, either. When you pay close attention you notice that Jake knows when a book is upside down and will carefully turn it right side up and turn the pages slowly, as if he is reading it. You'll notice that when Sam colors he sticks his tongue out the right side of his mouth. Or that he hums while he plays or that Jake clucks when he hears music. And you'll notice that at the end of the day the bath towels may not be folded, but your kids say they love you more than candy.