In the morning, Phil competed in his first triathlon. It was a 1/4 mile swim, 13 mile bike course, and 2 mile run. It was a long road to get there which included 4:30 am wake up calls for training (plus an unfortunate run-in with a skunk) - but he did it and he's awesome.
Dean took his first steps. We were just hanging out in the kitchen, and he walked clear into the other room. Just like that.
The older boys finished their latest chore charts. Weeks of scrubbing the walls, cleaning the toilets, sweeping the porch, etc. finally produced a Lego set for Ry and Pillow Pet for Cole. Score.
Charlie cleared his own plate after lunch without being asked. He just said, "Excuse me from the table please" and grabbed the plate, put it in the sink, and went on his merry way. Huh?
I actually feel like we're getting somewhere. Like I can breathe again. Like we can start to have our own interests and watch the kids grow into themselves too.
Of course, as I write this Camelot-esque tale I'm covered in spaghetti sauce from dinner, the toy room looks like it exploded and I have about 972 emails to answer before tomorrow. But for now I choose to bask in our victories - both big and small.
As the sticker on the back of our car says...Life Is Good.
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