Today, as I dashed to the treadmill, I caught sight of my children.  And you know, the kids are alright.  I was beginning my traditional late-winter spiral into doubt and panic.  For a while at least, it’s halted.

Through the doorway to the living room: Tias balancing on the Bosu while knitting, watching Arthur.

Arthur has been on his Netflix playlist as often as we’ll let him lately.  It’s perfect timing, as he’s sorting through a number of issues about growing up, his place in the world, morality, and other big questions.  Arthur deals with a lot of ideas that are swirling around Tias just now.

In the kitchen: Sandra, baking scones because I’d asked her to.

Helpful, dependable, deep-thinking Sandra.  I’d been craving scones for a week, ever since this photo came up in my Flickr friends’ photos.  Warm cranberry and orange scones were being baked while I ran; what a delightful thought: keep running and lunch will be warm and golden.

You know, when I look at them as people and not as Grade 6 or Grade 8, they’re wonderful.  They’re complicated.  They’re growing up.

They’re alright.  We’re alright.

: :

sweetness

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