I got a haircut a few days back, and then I ruined that perfectly styled, fresh cut look by putting on a hat and running twelve miles. I had just a few minutes to wash up and change before my next taxi shift began (school, piano, dinner, homework...). It's probably true I looked a mess; but when I leaned over his spelling paper to check his work, did my seven year old really have to tilt his head back and scrunch his eyebrows and say, "Wow, I can tell you're having a baaaad hair day!"?

Speaking of hair, the five year old has decreed that she will "not get another hair cut for the rest of my kid life." I asked her what would happen if it got so long that she stepped on it, and she didn't hesitate: "Well, let's just wait to worry about that when we get there."

In social studies yesterday, the second grade held mock elections. Caed ran for president on a platform of better sports equipment and procuring desks that open from the top. He squeaked into office just two votes ahead of his opponent. He told me all the kids "who didn't want to do anything"  were made congressmen by default. That sounds about right.

That picture above, it is my visual reminder to delight in the grass I'm given (no matter how green).  (Or in the snow and the mud and the wind of Ohio spring). It is my reminder to laugh and giggle instead of yell and nag. It is my reminder that life has the potential to be amazing if only I kick off those too tight heels, throw my arms up, my head back, my whole heart in.

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