January 4

One of the remarkable things about this blog is how it's allowed me to share vignettes from my children's lives. It's totally appropriate that they be featured prominently in these entries, since they are, after all, my greatest gifts.

With that said, we went out to lunch today. The Little Boys were off. Abby was disagreeable. The restaurant was packed so we had to settle for a small pair of tables in a corner. It was a decidedly frustrating experience watching (and listening to) them bicker about everything. When we'd all finished eating, Adam got up to use the restroom and Isaac finally settled enough to color quietly on his placement. As I relished the silence in a sort of stunned, slow-mo kind of way, I became aware of this scene across the table:

Abby sat cradling Brady's upper body in her lap, gently singing to him.

I don't remember what song she was singing, but it was quiet and soothing.

And the whole experience made me remember the importance --no, the sheer necessity-- of identifying and relishing those moments of calm in the eye of the storm of human life.