A few months ago I rented the movie Planes and Cam built the kids a blanket and pillow fort to watch it in. We set up the laptop and were all snuggled up watching together-with popcorn. I got a bit distracted, then looked back at the computer to see Stella standing over it, cup in hand. She kept her eyes fixed on me as she slowly poured the entire cup over the keyboard. We drained and dried, but to no avail.
  This is the explanation for a serious lack of blogging. We have two computers in the basement, but at night when the kids are finally asleep, the basement seems so very far away. I'm going to try to force myself downstairs more often, though, because I've had posts and thoughts and funny things the kids say floating around in my head for months. And now, a story. Ha.

  Last Friday afternoon, the kids and I went with Hayley to see Frozen. She had been muy sick on Christmas when we went as a family, but the kids were more than happy to see it again. With our arms full of popcorn, drinks and candy (Junior Mints and Red Vines because that's what my dad always bought) we headed to the theater with the kids. Stella spotted spilled popcorn on the ground, crouched down and started shoveling it in her mouth as fast as possible. She is awesome. Charlie sang "Let it Go" at the top of his little lungs and Stella would turn and look at me or Hay and then her eyes would get enormous. She usually followed that look up by announcing loudly "She's a pintheth!" or "It's a castle!" We had a wonderful time and only drove away one person sitting near us. True story.
  After the movie Charlie climbed up in the concrete planter that runs along the front of the theater. He was running back and forth, back and forth, as Charlie is prone to do. Hayley and I were distracted by a "pediatric nurse" who was criticising us for letting him run, when he got to the edge and turned around. I would have caught him if the woman hadn't been so busy butting in (trying not to dwell on that), but as it was, he fell right on his head.
  There's no other sound like the sound of a head hitting concrete. It's the worst sound-especially for a mom. We got him home and talked to the doctor's office. We knew he had a concussion, and spent the remainder of the evening TRYING to keep him still. That doesn't come naturally to Charlie. He kept saying, "I hate it when we have to take care of my head." Then I would catch him jumping from one couch to the other. This did come after a good, long cry and an unusually large order for Wendy's food for dinner (Charlie ordered two of everything he could think of. I complied cause I felt so bad for him. Then we threw away one of each item).
   We felt very blessed that our busy little boy was ok. I spent the evening and the next few days thinking about how grateful I was for his busy little body. For his mind that never stops. For his seriousness and outrageous vocabulary. I went to lie down next to him as he slept and just let all that love and worry and emotion wash over me. I didn't want to be anywhere but there with my boy.
  I'm so blessed to be a mom. I am blessed to wake up to Stella calling from her crib that "it's wake-up time mom" and then lifting up the blinds up and saying "See? I told you?" I'm even blessed to have Charlie use both feet to push me out of bed in the morning to get his breakfast and start the day. I'm blessed to be the one they want in the middle of the night and to be the one that reads them stories and supervises the unloading of the dishwasher. I'm blessed to be the one whose name they say hundreds of times every day. I'm blessed to be the one who can't go potty, or take a shower, or finish an article or a meal without being interrupted. It's good to stop and realize that I am greatful for every one of those interruptions and blessings. So greatful.