Home

Home is full. This photo is from Jason's annual Latin Lovers' Barbeque. And this is just half of the students that came. Lots of food, a little ping pong, and gifts for all the seniors. Jason loves his job.

Home is busy. The night before, my three 9th grade girls joined me for Tyler Clements' music at the coffee shop, for the new Narnia movie, for a "sleep" over at our house, and then for breakfast and a pedicure. Lots of fun.

Home is not clean. But the cars are. Just in case someone might think us lazy, on Sunday (after naps), J slathered the girls with sunscreen and enlisted their help in washing the cars. Zoe says, "I sprayed in the water with Daddy." But to be clear, she ran from the spray and squealed with delight while Addie splashed in the foamy bubbles.

Home is a free space. We love it when Zoe says funny things at home, but I don't like her free speech everywhere. Her verbal skills often make me nervous. At her checkup yesterday, Dr. Kelley asked her how she got the boo-boo on her ankle. Her reply, "I got burned," had visions of myself in handcuffs getting slandered and left alone in a cell running rampant in my mind. When Zoe finally explained that the scrape was "by the sun," and Dr. Kelley gave his knowing nod, I secretly sighed relief and gave thanks that I'd go home with the kids at the end of the appointment.

And that makes me think of one more thing as I sit here on the couch half listening to Sesame Street with my tutu-clad three year old beside me. Home is good.