So . . . Mardi Gras Happened

I feel like I’ve been picked up and shaken by that vicious terrier known as Mardi Gras.  There are bags under my eyes and the middle toe of my right foot is still totally numb from wearing high heeled strappy black sandals (with crystal adornments!) to the Orpheus ball, along with my too-tight, too-many-years-ago black and white flamenco dress that really didn’t fit well but who has the dolla billz for a formal gown these days?

A Mardi Gras recap is forthcoming.  Just as soon as I can gather myself together, pawn my children off on some unsuspecting friend, and sit down and write it.  Meantime, I wanted you to know two things:

1.  I am alive

2.  On Ash Wednesday in the early morning, rain poured steadily outside (and in some unfortunate areas of the house, inside) the windows.  I lay nestled between my two sons in Jack’s double bed, and it was probably the best hour of my life, dozing, cuddling, warm, listening to the rain.  My boys are the absolute best.

3. Bonus third thing – every morning, Jack still wakes up asking if we can go to a parade.  He then mimes waving to the floats, catching beads, and putting them around his neck, and sometimes my neck, too.  Sharing imaginary beads is pretty darned cute.