Friday was one of those days. You know the kind, lots of work, emotions running high. TGIF, you mutter to yourself, realizing that moms don't really have Friday nights anymore. I already wrote about the changes at work and that all hit full throttle on Friday. I had my very last chapel with my little guys and had to say good-bye and try not to blubber all over them. Moms and grandmas told me how much they were going to miss me and we all had tears in our eyes. I packed up my room and moved it to the next building, took my little kid stuff home to hopefully bring out again next year, and needless to say my truck was crammed full of kids and backpacks and school supplies and bookcases and an empty aquarium and everybody was squished. We had to drive across town to pick up Rebecca and somehow try to fit one more body in the car. Zion has a car seat, so he doesn't complain too much when we are crammed in. His borders are defined by the outline of his protective gear. But Emari doesn't have such luxuries anymore and being the youngest girl she gets stepped on in the floorboard at times like these. However, she is not a shy and quiet thing, so the complaints ring out until every body has piled out at the house.
Rebecca runs to check the mail as always and comes back with a small package for me from my mom. I'm thinking, "It's not my birthday, too early for Valentine's, what's going on here?" I wait until everything has been unpacked from the car, the items put away in the house and everyone is getting ready for a semi-quiet night at home. Then I slip away to open my surprise. And it was. Inside was a copy of Panda Cake, and a tiny little note in my momma's handwriting explaining how she had read my blog and bought the book and when she read it she remembered too. And it all fell away with a rush. That horrible, no good, very bad Friday was a memory and I was a soppy mess of happy tears. Remember the good things.