Monday Funday

Today?  Today was a good great day.  We all got up and got moving on time, with breakfast to boot.  The kids were awesome today at school; totally invested in our start of Shakespeare (I'm taking them to see Romeo and Juliet next Thursday).  Ethan was in a relatively good mood when I picked him up.  He curled up in my lap at the sitter's house as I was trying to put on his shoes and asked for a snuggle.  Such a musha, that kid.  I picked up Myles, then J and we went to visit Whit for a few.  Came home, had a family dinner, Ethan and J snuggled up to go to sleep; Myles took Heavy D for a much-needed walk and now I'm getting ready to pack lunches, get everything ready for tomorow and hit the sack myself.  Mondays like this make the rest of the week go so much more smoothly. 

Squishy

This is a coin I termed several years ago to describe this sort of in-the-middle feeling; it means that while things aren't really bad, they also aren't really good.  Unsettled.  And today?  Today I feel squishy.  The day itself wasn't bad, really.  E wasn't feeling great early this morning, but that all seemed to dissapate within a few hours (read: after I spent $50 at the grocery store at 6:30am, stocking up on Pedialyte, broth and crackers).  We had a pleasant morning and then walked up to the coffee shop for lunch with Myles, his girlfriend and her sister and grandmother.  E and I both took a good nap, but then the evening sort of fell through.  J was feeling grouchy  because of some extenuating circumstances and we were just totally miscommunicating.  He needed to vent and I kept offering suggestions and ways to make it better.  But see-- that's not what he needed.  He just needed to vent, to get it all out and I kept interjecting my thoughts, my opinions.  I finally shut my mouth and just acknowledged his feelings, which was a good step, but by that point, I was already frustrated and he was still frustrated and the rest of our evening went nothing as planned. 
And so now  I feel squishy.  It wasn't like we were fighting; it's not that we're upset with each other.  I just tend to take it personally when he's feeling sad, even though what he often needs is to simply not take other things so personally.  Go figure, huh?  So I'm squishy, sitting here on the couch with leftover Easter candy (because that's obviously going to make me feel better) and watching LOST, but not really paying attention because I'm so distracted by how I feel.  The good news is that after LOST, I'm going to bed and everything is always better in the morning. 

Adding to the Family

Over the past few months, Jason and I have talked at length about the idea of adoption.  We both know (at least we know most of the time!) that we want one more baby but I'm not sure I feel the need to be pregnant and to deliver again (though I am so glad to have done it at least once.  I learned so much about myself and giving birth is an amazingly transformative experience).  However, I don't think that just anyone can really love someone else's child as their own and I think that people who can, should.  I know that we can.  I know that both Jason and I can truly love a child that doesn't have my cowlick or his freckles, as any child our our's would have.  We can love someone else's child as our own.
We thought this would be a few years in the future.  We thought we would adopt a baby or a toddler.  But God had other plans, at least for now.  Last weekend, Myles, a senior at a local high school, moved in with us.  His family home was not a safe place to be and he left there about two months ago, but hasn't had a settled place to stay.  Without needing too much discussion, Jason and I asked him to come and live with us.  He's a sweet, thoughtful and intelligent guy.  Our hope is to get him healthy and happy-- get him to prom, to graduation, getting a job, starting classes at our local community college and feeling loved.  Both of our boys love him and he already feels like one of our own.