How We Do It, Part XLIII

The sheer number of Sophie's seizures and the fact that I couldn't leave her alone or unrestrained for one single second today might have driven me to drink. Permanently.  Instead, I listened to Oliver play Tequila -- slowly but pretty damn well. There was a moment later, when the three children and I sat down to dinner, when Sophie flung her cup and Oliver caught it, instinctively, even mid-conversation without missing a beat, that I knew I was where I was supposed to be and that where I was supposed to be was a very, very good place.