Compromise.

I just sat down and repeated my schedule out loud in a go-get-'em sort of whisper to myself. Like, "Okay. I've got an hour before I have to leave for my game. I can post, and I can order my pictures. I can do it." And then I thought to myself, "Wait a minute. I don't really have that sort of time, do I? Oh my God, am I supposed to be at a doctor's appointment right now? Should I be calling someone to set one up?" Really. I got this feeling like I must be forgetting something. But, no. Everything else on my list for this morning has been checked off.

So, here are Marley and Rudy late this weekend, mere hours after the triumphant moment when Todd found Rudy's glasses. They had been missing for over two days at that point, and we were sure they were gone for good. At last Friday's practice, I had my field hockey team spread out and comb the playground and path adjacent to the game field where Todd last remembered having them clipped to his shirt the day before. I ordered a new pair of frames over two harried visits to our glasses store on Saturday, and then the next day, I got to cancel the order and the additional dent it would have made in our expanding credit card depression. Good God.

This picture is representative of the good times we've had lately. When they haven't been whining or crying or pouting or yelling at each other, Marley and Rudy have been really cracking each other up. There's been lots of Marley spinning around daintily and Rudy stomping all enthusiastically while music is playing. And plenty of racing from the kitchen to the living room and around the stairs and back again while screeching and screaming and laughing. And then there's the call and response. Sometimes Rudy's "Dubba Dee! Nee-No-Wah!" Or "Dee-Doh! Dee-Doh! Dee-Doh!" And sometimes Marley gets Rudy to echo whatever she's got on her mind. Mostly, they are clearly a team these days. Which is sweet. But they get on each other's nerves a lot, too. Last week at the library, during the baby and toddler laptime, my kids were the ones literally (I mean it) pushing and shoving each other and screaming in misery while the rest of the moms and their cherubs were swaying together and singing "Twinkle, Twinkle," or something like it.

Nobody's perfect. I don't think, for example, those pictures will be ordered before I scurry off to coach another field hockey game. But we'll take all the giddy smiles and small triumphs we can get. Like maybe, my team will win this afternoon?