I’ve just gotten Gabby to sleep. She’s got a helluva cough (croupy & congested) and is just miserable. She won’t take ANY medicine. She doesn’t swallow pills and she doesn’t do liquids. I can remember when she was a toddler, D and I sat on her, forced her mouth open and gave her some baby Tylenol when she had a high fever. She waited until we released her and then she spit it out at us. She has an uncanny ability to heal herself though. She gets sick, needs love and cuddling, and is better in no time — with no pharmaceutical help whatsoever.

Miss Gabby is asleep on the couch, which means I will unfold a yoga mat (at least it gets some use!)  and sleep on the floor so that if she wakes up, I’m there.

Gratitude is essential to my sanity as I believe good vibes beget good vibes. Yet, times like this, it’s hard to remember what exactly I’m grateful for, but grateful I will try to be. I am grateful for

• the quiet moments . . . listening to the clocks tick . . . knowing time is passing and all is well
• Marie Callendar’s semi annual pie sale and that there was a Chocolate Satin pie in stock
• tight kiddie hugs
• puppy kisses
• the fireplace which warms my heart and feet
• Amazon and stacks of books to read
• that my yoga mat is ready for me . . .

G’nite.

Some might not recognize that as a term of endearment. But for me and mine, those four words mean all is well in our world.

It means that even though my kids are reaching the age where their parents embarrass them, we have a tight, if wonky, relationship.

It means that even though my 11 year old son would rather die than be seen getting a kiss goodbye from mom, he still notices me and cares enough to comment.

It means that even though I probably do embarrass my kids, they still want to keep communication lines open.

It means that when they think I’m off-base, they don’t hesitate to call me on it.

And yes, it means that — sometimes — I’m a doof.