My mind twirls the places of the week. Soccer fields and Scout hall and church and football fields and after school pick up. I wonder how we will ever keep up when the sun sets sooner and the schedule is bursting.
And then I am reminded: This is real life. It isn't practice for the real thing. It isn't the scrimmage. It isn't the dress rehearsal. This -- right now -- with the half-folded laundry and the stove that needs scrubbed and the little boy who didn't have anybody to play with at recess and the girl who failed her math test and the one who has a headache so she thinks the whole wide world should pay too and the one who was finally just plain happy because he is with his forever family -- all of this is real.
I don't want to be overwhelmed because we have a full schedule or because dinner dirtied a few pans or because the showers are lasting a little past bedtime. Instead, I want my joy to overflow with the giggles bursting and the arms tight around my waist hugging and Andy's eyes sparkling because we're in this together and even when they are grouchy and we are in passing vehicles, this family life is very good.
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