Home. Sweet, sweet home.

Grateful for my own bed. And for my babies’ own cribs. And for Phil, who dealt with Enzo’s first meltdown at the sight of his crib: “No! Nap!”, even though it was nowhere near bedtime. And grateful for Phil again, who endured the THREE HOUR standoff to get Enzo to sleep while I worked, and then he cleaned the kitchen.

Tomorrow: real life again. I almost feel ready to tackle it.

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