Serenity now!

Just a couple nights ago, the kids were insufferable devils -- monstrously difficult in a way that only toddlers can be. It's as though they size up your mishaps and disasters, and embrace them. They sense that shift in control and note parental fatigue. Then they capitalize on it.

Martin and I were on the verge of throttling the two of them when finally we reached that blessed milestone. It was time to tuck them into bed where they'd drift asleep, plotting the next day's destruction.

I retreated to our bedroom where I glanced out the wavy glass of our windows and noticed this scene in the fading light.


The photo is fuzzy. It barely captures the view and fails entirely to grasp the mood that night. We'd just escaped three days and four inches of rain and the weatherman swore there'd be sun tomorrow. But at that moment, 8:45 pm, sun was still just a promise and the remains of rain lingered, smudging out the mountain beyond the trees. Fog hovered in little puffs but in the foreground, every bush, branch and blade of grass relished the soaking and was bursting bright green.

It was something about those black and white sheep methodically cropping the perfect grass, and the deer striding across the field beyond (unseen in this photo), and the respite from the drumming rain, with only sound from a few birds chirping in the last light -- that instantly quelled my stormy mood. I gazed out the window and felt serene.

Then again, it might have been the screwdriver that Martin mixed and handed me....