for long, relatively quiet afternoons. mornings at work have been difficult lately: my courage has been failing me. the process of trying to get roo settled for his nap after our commute while also helping the older kids transition into their day has turned me into the kind of perpetually overwhelmed, chronically short-tempered person who whimpers quietly into her hands, cursing kellymom.com and its surely-helpful-to-someone-but-completely-inapplicable-to-my-situation advice to nurse my "distractible baby" in a "darkened, quiet, boring room". (advice i could use: how to nurse my distractible baby into the perfect drowsy but awake" condition before his nap while baby's friend the dangerously affectionate 18 month-old pets his head, shouting BABY! BABY! BABY! directly into his ear. while his cute bricks-for-feet friend the 4 year-old thumps around "doing yogas" six feet away. while the soundtrack to "Mamma Mia!" plays in the background.) 

but the afternoons! oh, the afternoons: i spend the first half of my day holding my breath, the better to power through. the second half feels like a long, contented sigh: i have regained my senses of humor and equalibrium, the children have reached maximum adorability, and i have hours ahead at home. relief.

*

for my father, who volunteered to drive me to my church committee meeting on friday night. i don't often feel hindered by my inability to drive: i have friends and family close by, my job is within walking distance, the bus even stops (once an hour) right outside our door. but every now and then---like when my presence is requested ten miles from home at an hour when the buses have stopped running on an evening that audra is working---i feel limited, deficient. i hate, too, to have to ask for help---begging rides off people makes me feel like such a pain in the ass---and i'm grateful that today i didn't have to.

* 

for the perfect dinner: beer (octoberfest) and cupcakes (apple.)