Home.

The drive home went so fast. Like we were in some time of time zone. Ethan peed in his car seat without either of us noticing it, which worked out better for both of us because by the time I did notice, everything was mostly dry and the big frustrating ordeal I would have made-had I found out right when he wet his pants-was avoided. I just sort of shrugged my shoulders and said, o well. Get back in your car seat.
We did amazingly well, considering the only thing we had to keep occupied was my small book of Cd's, and extremely salty or sweet snacks, the kind that make you feel like you've doubled your weight each time you get out of the car to stretch.
Which we did three times. And this is my new favorite thing: Ethan peeing on some plant, his white tiny tush glaring in the sun. He has become a real pro, "Mommy, I will push my hips forward, OK?" and is quite proud of himself.
We got home late and it was dark and quiet and warm. Seeing Joey walk out of the garage door was like hot chocolate on a rainy day, like the sun on my shoulders when I plant flowers, like Christmas morning, like sleeping on the beach looking up at the black sky covered in starry pins, like the smell of the redwoods, only better. I felt weak when he hugged me.