After a week of aloneness, I am now reunited with the kids and Patrick. A school trip took Patrick into the craggy mountains of North Carolina for seven days, and the kids stayed with my helpful in-laws for the majority of the week, so I wouldn't have to sell plasma to pay the babysitters. (Oh, and they also spent one night at my parents house, then my mom brought them back to me--- thank you Mom!) By Saturday night, everyone was back, and the world seemed right again. I did manage to sleep an extra few hours while they were gone, which was nice, but hey, sleep is sleep. I'd rather have the crew around. *yawn*

I've heard it said that women need thirteen meaningful touches throughout the day to feel loved. I calculate that I was at least sixty-five low. (!) However, I have snuggled thoroughly, and am happy to report that warm and fuzzy feelings have returned to their normal operating levels.

Patrick had a fantastic time, which I am so glad for. He camped out, utilizing an assortment of gear he has collected since infancy (ah, the life of the country boy). He hiked and explored and sketched and designed and laughed and made a thousand funny memories with his friends. I imagine it was the highlight of his LSU experience, and he deserved it. He's worked harder than any man I know, balancing school and work and family. Honestly, it's stressful. It's hard. We're sick of it. But we're almost through, and I'm glad he had this fun little blip along the way.

So, another week begins, normal in the way that life always seems un-normal for us. Comfortable chaos, I'm beginning to see-- the routine of the unexpected. One day, I think and I fantasize that life will be cookie cutter predictible for us... but maybe not. Maybe we're destined for newness and differentness because that's what life is for us. I don't know. And at the moment, I don't mind. I'm just glad to go home tonight to a house with lights in the windows.

Life is good.