There were a lot of forgettable parts of today. I didn't make a dent in my laundry. I yelled too much. Coffee + fasting = jitters by late afternoon. And I'm just plain tired.
But I hope I remember the sight of my four year-old John sitting in the middle of the very back seat of our van watching a Larry Boy DVD. I kept looking in the rear view mirror as we drove to the dentist appointment and he was as quiet as could be. We brought along his stuffed Shamu, but he had no need for it. On the way home, after having an extra adult tooth extracted, I kept looking in the rear view mirror again - this time to watch for excessive bleeding on the 25-minute drive home. But again, he didn't move a muscle. Just sat there with his prized orange balloon tied to his little wrist. Thank God for Larry Boy. And thank God for a wonderful pediatric dentist and his assistant; thank you, God for friends who pray for me; thank you, God for the example of the saints and for guardian angels to look to for comfort.
I got to hold John's hand all through the 20-minute procedure. He was cool as a cucumber. And I got to snuggle with him at home on the couch while we watched more Larry Boy until the bleeding subsided. And a little over an hour later, he felt good enough to make it to Mass for Ash Wednesday.
Tonight I went to kiss Bethanie good night and she said, "Mommy, you look so pretty in your ashes." That sweet comment melted my heart. I don't know if we're supposed to look good in ashes, but I have a feeling there would be a poem there if I contemplated ashes and mothers and beauty for just a few minutes. Unfortunately, I do not have a few minutes, because I am completely exhausted. Think I'll go cuddle up with Shamu and be glad this day is done.