Went out and bought eight matching placemats today. We only have sets of four and I need five because of Z.
I was also thinking about endings today. How, no matter how welcomed they are, have a certain element of sadness.
I got home and dealt with the dinner drama during which Z took advantage of our distractions to practice his independence. When I 'saved' him he had already opened the knife drawer, pulled out our huge, extremely sharp, butcher knife and was trying to cut the elusive strawberry in his little plate. I'm still recovering from that fright.
But it made me realize there is one ending that actually gives me pure joy; the end of each day. Night time. After the drama, endless snacking, homework, showers and the tantrums about extra snacking before bed, have all passed and it's just time to chat briefly in bed and then we all close our eyes and sleep.
And maybe it's because that isn't an ending at all, but a chance for a new beginning...
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