I had plans to write today. I've never written down all the thoughts I had about the Republican candidates debate. I was ripe and ready for a rant.
Then the boys showed up with the new baby and my plans flew out the window as they lugged supplies and their exhausted selves into our house. They're driving from San Francisco to Miami because their little one is still too fragile to fly. A grandpa joined them to share the driving and the shlepping and the love. Our house is conveniently located off the southern cross country route, the I-10, the road trip Little Cuter and I have yet to take.
I have to admit, denizens, the thought of packing a small bag and joining them on the journey has crossed my mind more than once. Instead, I shopped for essentials - a boppy pillow, plastic grass and a flower, yogurt and fruit and salad and steaks and chicken and coffee - and I allowed the thought to drift away. I'll be the hostess with the mostest and send them on their merry way in the morning, well fed, well supplied, and fueled by love.
I've known one of the daddies since he was speck in Heidi's womb; I'm considering myself an unofficial grandparent. I'll be hugging and loving and then I'll be back tomorrow so we can share anguish and terror and other ramifications of the Clown Car that is Republican politics.
For now, though, I'm going to revel in the love.