Taking Henry upstairs… anxiety over laundry. 

Just attack it, I tell myself.

First load on, Henry helping me move the mattress back into Jack’s room.  Took the pullout from his room so I could sleep on it, he requesting last night to sleep in my “super cozy bed” with Henry.  No way I could say no, so there I was.

Henry ready for day, big kids not so much.  Told them 11:45 and hard-stop stop of everything.

Word count obsession, still playing with limits… 147, 149…. 185.  Shorter is better and more to my “brand” or written identity.

Henry, completely zen.  No insurgencies or protests, and his language much more pronounced and expressive, precise.  He fills my heart and makes it heap with love and gratitude, just like his big brother and sister, but much differently, and much more controlling I guess I’d say.

Text from friend, wishing me “a good weekend with the babies. :)” This single dad story, what is it… love manifold and multiplied.  Taking in each word they speak, lifting my head and seeing Jack help his little brother… LOVE.