And it turned out pretty okay.

I finished reading The Fault in Our Stars by John Green last night.  Even though I was pretty sure what was coming and I braced myself as best I could, despite any (or no) resolve, I cried and cried.  And I thought about the Universe.  I have a love-hate relationships with books like that.  I read them few and far between.

I went to school with puffy eyes this morning.  No make-up could help.   But I truly enjoyed my classes today.  The kids - with the exception of one - were great.  It is some other stuff that happened at work that I am really trying to not take personally that kinda put me on tilt.

And then there was the doctor's appointment after school that went pretty much as expected, but not how I wanted.  And the hour drive home. 

But on the way home, I got to talk to one of my best friends - who I don't talk to nearly enough.  And I made it home before I thought I would - because the doctor was on time and efficient and I didn't hit the worst part of rush hour - and so I was able to stop and see the last parts of Everly's gymnastics class.  And Cortlan was nearly done with his homework - a record for him.

We had pizza for dinner.

And after dinner, with my work clothes still on, and the closest-to-the-door footwear I could find for the occasion - my pretty mud boots that have yet to be worn in the mud and, in fact, still have the elastic thing that attaches the two boots to each other - I went to the covered porch area to cut John's hair.  It started to drizzle.  While we were covered and protected from the rain, Everly seized the opportunity to get her rain boots and rain jacket on and grab her umbrella.  And Cortlan was sitting in the wagon that is now too small for him, reading out loud from Tie Your Socks and Clap Your Feet - a book of mixed up poems by Lenny Hort that he asked his teacher if he could bring home from her classroom because he so wanted to share it with us, and she let him.

And I looked around.  And I thought about how, sometimes, the Universe just wants to be noticed.

And I noticed my beautiful, silly, full-of-personality daughter playing in the rain with her eclectic assortment of rain gear.  I noticed my deep-thinking, passionate son laughing and reading to us while sitting in a wagon because he couldn't wait to share with us the funny poems that he discovered.  I looked down and noticed the blue poncho over my husband's shoulders.  And the elastic between my pretty mud boots.

Happy, Universe?  Yeah, I feel a little better, too.