Fighting the good fight

Why does getting things to work the way you imagined they would SO often feel like a fight?

Sorry, sometimes I just throw out a rhetorical question that relates to too many parts of my life at once.

We're trucking through this new year. 

Pencil and I have been walking with the wagon (and trailer... and a random fire hydrant in this picture)

He has become a delightful little buddy in the last month since the big kids have gone back to school. I don't know if I'm finally appreciating him, or if he's finally getting the hang of being with me, but it's working.  

It's been sweet, like caramel covered brownies with vanilla ice cream sweet, and I'm trying to cling to the moments as they rush past. (Especially because new years and calorie counting has prevented too many brownie incidents from happening in my actual mouth.) 

Really, though, we're all growing into friends here, and I am loving watching it happen. Sunday Night game night has easily slipped into an anticipated and relished tradition at our house. (You could visit and join us any time, but I must warn you that the number of games in rotation is still limited. Sorry! It's getting to be a game I can play in my sleep. Well, loose in my sleep, anyway.)

This is my monkeys having a Lego building and technique discussion over cinnamon toast crunch. I've had to pry them apart to get kids to school on time. It's great and maddening at the same time. How many moms have to repeat and repeat  "Stop playing nicely with your brother!" ? that's what I'd like to know!

The STRESS about moving and house selling and house buying and all the steps there-in still hovers in my periphery. BUT February is beginning and my feet are plodding ever onward, so we'll get there. Residency will end and a JOB will begin, and the details won't get the better of me. Not with all these caramel brownie moments happening like they do. I'll do my best to catch them so that I can share.