Shoes, steps, and stomach aches.

Zorak came home, we all rejoiced, hit the buffet yesterday, and then put him back on a plane. We have it easy, compared to our military families, I know. It's still not fun.

John is decked out in gear for baseball. This child is stoked. There's no other term for it. He is wildly, thoroughly stoked. His coach called this morning to introduce himself and give me a heads up that the meet 'n greet will be sometime in the next week. I volunteered to handle any allergy-related snacks for the team. His wife said there are three children in the school with celiac, so she would be sure to bring it up at the meeting and let folks know to get with me on their needs, if they have any. I guess they've decided to go with ball pants for the kids this year because their little legs get too torn up wearing shorts, so that was the Big News. (It was a little lost on me, I admit, because I had no idea they would wear anything other than ball pants.)

Smidge has taken off on the independence track lately. It's not the two-year-old "I can do it myself" anymore. He just goes... and does it. And then beams from ear-to-ear when he's done. Everything is a reason for celebration for him. Everything is a joy. He knows he's earned the praise he receives, because he can feel the accomplishment in his bones. We should all work so hard to do so well, I think.

Miss Emily has taken a few steps by herself. She's still not thrilled with the huge spaces of nothingness between furniture, but she sure was proud of herself with those steps. And they were to Daddy, which made him smile. Watching them made me smile. It's good stuff, isn't it?

James came ambling out last night around ten-thirty, complaining of a stomach upset. He had some warm milk and then headed back to bed. About half an hour later, I heard what sounded like a body falling from the top bunk, and dashed down the hall to see what happened. He was leaning in the hall, looking shaken. "I puked, Mom, *bwomp*" - the sound turned out to be vomit hitting the wall at 90MPH. That had to have hurt. He was sick all night, eventually running out of energy to do anything more than lie there and moan. Sometime after four this morning, he drifted into a peaceful sleep. (Well, he probably just passed out, but he looks so peaceful now that he's not convulsing in dry heaves, so we're going with that.) I imagine he won't be right for a day or two. Best we can figure is that the culprit must be the salad from the buffet. That's the only thing he ate that the rest of us didn't.

The weather's beautiful today. Grey, breezy, threatening rain, but it's already in the mid-50's. I'd hate to waste a day like this inside, so after a leisurely morning, perhaps we'll take an outing - the baseball player, the enthusiastic small one, the crawling rock-eater, and the invalid from the infirmary. Won't we be a colorful troupe? The fresh air will do us all some good.

In the meantime, I think I'm going to work on the school room a bit. Maybe write a note to the principal to let him know James won't be doing lessons today. ;-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy