I would like to tell you something profound about how I feel today– kind of warm and teary, to tell you the truth- because 30 years ago this afternoon at 1 o’clock my daughter Sarah was born on the Haines clinic in a blizzard– (WAIT! WHOOPS? Sarah wasn’t born ON the clinic, we were definitely inside, since I remember the poster on the ceiling, it was of some cartoon gnomes “wee berry people” who lived in a tree stump.) Anyway– my mother had traveled from New York to watch Sarah’s older sister while we attended to the birth– and how this lucky February 13th I got to wake up with Sarah’s two daughters, who are staying here while she and her husband have a long weekend away– but I don’t have time to think about all that– or rather just enough to be grateful– because while we just got the toys picked up, and spaghetti sauce in the pot, and Caroline finally did fall asleep in the window seat while she listened to me practice my Irish lines for the play–(is that a bad sign?)– I just heard Ivy singing herself up from her nap in the pack-and-play, and it’s time to get back to it.
