Little Guy has a friend over this afternoon, and there is something going on that involves pulleys, duct tape, bees made out of pushpins, and pipecleaners. They've been crafting this masterpiece for hours.It moves (the glittery thing in the picture is on a ribbon zip line). Snuggler, who has been trotting around all day in Dancer's fuschia tap costume, has gotten involved, too. I'm unclear on exactly what they're doing; I keep my nose out of it, bite my tongue when I glimpse the mess, and wash off blueberries to serve as a snack. In return they pretty much leave me alone. I sent off a newsletter this afternoon, and have had time to start a direct mail letter that's due next week.

The juxtaposition of Normal (yes, this kind of mess is thoroughly normal around here) and Not Normal is a curious comfort. Part of what holds us together in times of crisis is noticing and making a point to remember the good things and good people around us. It's saying our 'thank you's' at the end of the day, it's writing down the positives, it's being grateful for the stupid joke someone tells you that makes you laugh way too hard, simply because it feels good to laugh instead of hurt.

I remind myself that if life is an algebra problem (which I don't think it is), there are pluses I often forget to add in, and minuses to which I apply too big a a multiplier. And so I need to pay special attention to the positives. Because they are there, whether I remember them or not.

Big Guy is unhappy, but safe. We are impressed by his doctors. I have vibrant green Chinese broccoli to steam, and gingery tofu to stir fry with fresh udon noodles for dinner. My other kids are not traumatized by the events that led to Big Guy's hospitalization. My husband is around, so childcare is not an issue. There are good things happening, if I stop to notice them.