The Upswing of the Cycle

I know that life is cyclical, as are emotions, hormones, and circumstances. I am also well aware that these factors impact how well everyone in a specific environment will mesh. When I think of the five very distinct personalities in our home, I'm often amazed that there's as much peace as there is.

So when it comes, I cherish it. When it comes in wave after wave, as it has lately, I just let it wash over me and coat me in a protective layer of joy to keep with me on the ebbing of the tide.

We ran errands and then took a walk through the woods. The boys protected me from "Wild Beasts". Granted, I could see one building just ahead and the building from which we'd left, looming behind us, but that didn't matter to them. No, sir, this is prime Wild Beast territory! Just ask the boys. (They did a fine job and we returned unscathed! My Heroes!)

We bought sketch pads for the boys today at Bay Books. I can't afford to shop there often, but try to shop there when I can, simply because the folks there are wonderful. They're nice to my kids, and they'll order things for us without making me cough up a kidney as a deposit. They aren't a chain, and while I do think chains and franchises are wonderful things, I also like the local shops. I don't mind paying more at a local shop when it provides the service, attention, and personalized care for which it is supposed to be superior to the larger stores. It's seldom that I find such service, but when I do, I return as often as I can. At Bay Books, it's worth the extra money. We bought a few bookplates for the scads of books we picked up at the library sale (85 at last count, and it's driving James nutty wondering which library books are ours and which need to go back, hence, the bookplates), and a couple of Dover Thrift books (because there's just no excuse for passing up an unabridged version of something wonderful for under $4!)

We played and read, we snuggled and talked. We enjoyed a splendid lunch together at Taco Bell (I love our Taco Bell! Not only is it the only decent Mexican food in the county, but they'll make the Mexican Pizza out of corn tortillas for John. I love them!)

Now, I had a very pastoral, 1950's style homecoming prepared for Zorak. He's been slaying dragons all day, and I've been, well, wallowing in my wonderful, incredible life. So, fresh coffee brewed and ready? Check. Mutton roasting in the oven long enough to make the house smell yummy? Check! House tidy and welcoming? Check. Clean undies folded and put away? Check. The boys were playing out back, in the mud, and I had just planned to bring them in, wash them, put them in soft, fuzzy sweats and be snuggled on the couch, reading them something exciting when he arrived. Check? Uh, no.

Not even close.

When he got home, John was running about upstairs, partially ready for a bath. James was covered head-to-toe (including his head under the hood of his sweatshirt) in mud and clay, trying to undress inside on the white carpet. I was nudging him back with my knee, wrangling a large pile of mud off of the baby. The baby was screaming violently, and had gone Vietnam-protestor-limp. He did not want to come in yet. I had no idea Zorak was due home just then, and was laughing myself silly trying to get the situation sorted out. (It was, really, quite funny. You know, in a "had to be there" kind of way.) When what do you know, the door opens and there is my Dragon-Slayer. *sigh*

It was another 15 minutes before we could get enough mud out of the way to reach one another for a welcome home kiss. Poor guy. But at least the house smelled yummy!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy