Today

Leif took a load of debris to the dump with Gavin and Paige, the helpers. Then he worked some more on the house till late. He's dying to get his hands on a dump trailer.

I made best friends with my couch today, feeling crummy as apple crisp. The good of it: I caught up on Parenthood episodes and finally delved into The Book Thief and am loving it. I sat outside for a bit to escape the stuffiness and wallowed in the warmth that I couldn't thoroughly enjoy (the neighbor kids were playing with water guns).

Gavin made the cutest-ever family paper chain. And he pulled out his own tooth with his own pliers he got for Christmas. I said, "Now we need to put the tooth under your pillow," and he said, "Text Dad first." Priorities straight. He's seven, and he still says "thinger" and "flamily" (finger, family).

Paige played really well all by herself while I sat on the sick couch. She loves to dress up in Gavin's new construction worker set. I swear, she turned five, and she aged in a flash. So grown up. Love her.

Dax survived today, even with a sick momma who couldn't keep him from dangerous things. Case in point: I had to pull myself off the couch to see what that noise was in the kitchen . . . only to find Dax with the scissors, stabbing a package of saltines to death to get it open. How he missed stabbing his leg . . . He came, always dragging blankets, to snuggle me several times because he could tell something was different about Mommy today. His new thing is to take off his diaper. All day. Especially when he goes to bed, so that he wakes, naked, fully bathed in urine. I hate that I'm going to have to find onesies his size to remedy this. Or I guess I could use duct tape. His vocabulary grows by the day, and it makes me sad to see his second birthday looming on the calendar. My baby!