Monday

The dishes are piled up in the sink and counter from a hastily prepared dinner.  The dishwasher is on the fritz and my sweet engineer is out of town and unable to rescue me from my appliance-less state. I'm well aware that soap and water work just as well, and probably better, then my tempermental dishwasher.  But scrubbing each dish by hand takes a lot of time.  I know that that is therapeutic for some people, and if you know any of those people, feel free to send them to my house.  I don't mind.  The kids are in bed and I am finally sitting down with a cup of tea knowing that I have loved them well today.  Instead of cleaning up after dinner, I scrubbed my little girl's hair and chatted about friends and recess.  I took a turn sitting and watching my little man impress me with his snowboard tricks on his xbox.  (and wincing slightly everytime his dude took a spectacular crash because I was imagining that happening in real life).  Maybe I should leave my dishes as a monument to time well spent... Now, how can I talk myself out of doing the laundry?

Some weekend fun with one of my favorite people:

Evidence of that quirky Hewitt gene.