Life

It's Joanna and Joel and Jordan canning peaches with classical music playing and Eva and Reilly running around dropping board books and pulling out pots and pans and trying to pick up the lid to the canning cauldron, and it's Joel giggling at Joanna's fly phobia and at Eva gobbling peaches and it's Owen going "ga-BA" and batting at the mobile in his carseat and the mobile jangling out Pop Goes the Weasel. It's sun filtering through the clouds and windows and breezes sweeping through the door and Eva showing off her daddy and blowing into the empty fishbowl and waving to me and it's Lydia writing a rhetoric paper in her pajamas in the background and startling us with random pronouncements on psychopharmacologic kids, and it's watching Reilly's mom drive past three times trying to find the driveway, and it's Jordan and Joel telling Eva "no touch" firmly and praising her when she doesn't and laughing when she sticks batteries in her eyes and pretends they're binoculars. It's Jordan kissing Owen all over and Eva playing peekaboo with me and discussions of what altitude we're at and how many kinds of peaches Joanna bought and it's pizza on the coffee table and jars of orangey-gold peaches on the counter and it's me sitting on the couch reading Bavinck on covenants.

All that, that's life.

That and run-on sentences. Happiness.