Today was a good day. Therapeutic and lots to be thankful for.
On a different topic, below is a brief conversation I had with my 4.5 year-old yesterday.
L: Mom! P hit me with the card twenty of times.
Me: She hit you plenty of times, huh.
L: No. TWENTY. Twenty of times.
Me: Oh.
L: 60 miles. That's how long she hit me.
The day before that, my darling middle child, while attempting to take off her hoodie, cried out, "Help! I can't find my way out!"
And not to leave out the youngest of the brood, B's "communication" with us seems to have suddenly improved. Still not many words (at all), but we are communicating more clearly. This gives me hope that a talker is about to burst free.
As for me, I'm leaving laundry on the floor, dishes in the sink, the Christmas tree on its side, and am off to meet the Sandman.
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