let me be your work of art

This weekend, Steve and I put a dent into our long list of to-dos. Rooms were picked up and organized, errands were run, hearty lasagna was baked, and the sandbox was filled with new white sand. Last night, Steve got home from seeing “Spiderman 2” with his brother, and Nolan insisted on going outside to play in the sandbox, though it couldn’t have been warmer than 60 degrees. The past few days, Nolan keeps repeating the phrase, “Bring back summer!” (from Frozen), and though I don’t think he knows what that means, I whole-heartedly agree. :) While the guys were outside, I set Ephraim in his swing so that I could cook some oatmeal. As I was tossing in raisins and heaping spoonfuls of brown sugar, Ephraim began to fuss (as he does when I’m not giving him my 100% attention). The fuss quickly turned in to a full-on wail. I unbuckled him from the swing, and he immediately sighed relief and smiled at me with those twinkly blue eyes. With him resting upon my shoulder, we danced in circles around the playroom to a Francesca Battistelli song while the sun faded on our weekend.

♫ “I’m an empty page, I’m an open book. Write your story on my heart. Come on and make your mark. Author of my hope, maker of the stars: Let me be your work of art.” ♫