The nine-year-old asked if I would sit and watch the whole little show they were putting on, not just the beginning. That part stung. I said yes and left my phone on the counter, then got treated to a very serious story involving a blanket, a missing shoe and our dog refusing his assigned role. I laughed so hard the kid stopped to tell me it wasn't the funny part yet. Felt good to be wanted for an audience instead of to find something or sign something. Also a little guilty that they had to specify the WHOLE show. I stayed through the announcement about tomorrow's performance too.

Walked the dog past the mailbox because the air finally felt decent and I wasn't ready to go back to that chair. My shoulders were still up near my ears even outside, which I noticed only when the leash pulled my arm forward. By the turn my steps had got longer and I could hear myself breathing instead of the computer fan. Came home with dust on my ankles and an honest appetite, not the kind where I open the pantry and forget what I'm after. Ate my sandwich at the kitchen table. The dog lay across both feet, so getting up on time required negotiations with somebody else for a change.

Trying to fit Sunday's lesson into the time we actually have, not the time I imagine when I'm planning at home. I always put in one more activity and then hurry the children through the bit they want to talk about. This week's question on the sheet is simple, but I can already hear three different stories they'll tell in answer. If I keep the craft there won't be room. Hate dropping a thing I've gathered supplies for, all those pieces cut out, but paper can wait in a drawer. I crossed out the craft and then wrote optional beside it. Apparently I am still negotiating with my own lesson plan.