callie is fifteen; so are kt & jo. they'll be sixteen first. next april.
we're thinking about letting (making? suggesting? not sure...) them go see the rocky horror picture show at the music hall this saturday at 11:30pm.
we've said no to so much this year.
we're hoping they'll appreciate this yes (or please go! don't you want to? don't you know about this?).
lindsey is twelve, and tim and anna are knocking on the bathroom door.
"why can't she come in to brush her teeth?" he asks. "why does she need to wait?"
i need to step in. yell up. let her be. anna can wait. read to her first, then teeth.
twelve. twelve deserves some privacy from six.
have i mentioned that abby can stand on her hind legs at the kitchen door and ring the prayer bell when she wants to go out???
our doors and windows are closed tonight. closed, even, for most of the day. it's a hard adjustment for me. i feel shut in. closed off. i have to get up every four minutes or so. walk around. peer out to the park and check on the girls.
but tonight, it feels safe and i'm glad to have who is here, here. i wish there were more of us.
it never feels quite right, when there is not all of us.
it's not easy when there's all of us.
and it is most certainly not quiet.
but that's one of the losses, one of the gains.
we are never quite right, no matter what the combination.
some of us are always missing someone.
but all of us always have someone near us to love.
more soon.
xo,
tt
***how old are you? i'm forty-four. so this means something to me.
