I took the girls to the beach today with Ellie and Ben. It’s a lovely beach, and totally isolated and quiet and clean and very sparkly. It’s owned by the historical society and it is, as far as I’m concerned, the best perqs of Patrick’s job, at least as far as his family is concerned. (Okay…the general flexibility is first, but the beach is a close second.) I find my daughters’ various qualities most heightened when they are negotiating in a group of three, which they frequently are. They are my Sun and my Moon, one bright and constant, the other mysterious and changeable. They are complicated and exhausting and enchanting and make me feel a kind of fierce protectiveness and tenderness and frustration that still, even after a good decade of this parenting thing, takes my breath away.
I make jokes about vodka, but honestly, after a day of feeling everything your children make you feel, and doing everything your children make you do, plus, you know…running a household or working at your job or whatever else you have to do on top of it all…how could one possibly settle down and catch one’s breath without a cocktail from time to time?
For dinner, I had tortilla chips, snow caps, and gin.
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