I am home. My kids are home. My cat is home from the vet and should remain that way for the next little while. My pocketbook sighs with relief. It was almost looking like we were going to have to cancel R's birthday, for all the money pouring into Miss Kitty's vet bills. She is happy and eating again, with no barf in sight and not stepped into yet. Nothing worse than stepping in cat barf in bare feet first thing in the morning on the way to the bathroom to pee, BEFORE I have my morning coffee into me. Just sets a nasty tone for the day, I have to tell you.
That is all I have tonight, as I am tired and bed is calling. The dedication was lovely and not too many tears were shed. None by me surprisingly (as I leak constantly over almost anything), but I was trying to convince R to be quiet while the speeches were going on. Almost three-year-olds don't like to be told anything, especially to be quiet, but she did get to clap (although was wondering where the music had been since she was clapping. She loves to clap. There were cookies too. Life doesn't get much better than cookies. I have to agree on that point.