Do you ever have dreams that make you wake up in a funk? Early this morning I woke up from a dream where Dan told me I should start looking for my own place to live with the girls, that I needed to move out. He was so polite and emotion-less. It was horrible. Then, in the dream, I was crying to my sister about it all and Dan walked in--"Listen," he said to my sister, "I didn't want to be in charge of leftovers, but she made me. I'm sorry." To which I remember, in the dream, looking down at a container of whipped cream cheese that was in my hand.

Ah, yes--those early morning, weirdo dreams. But I still made Dan get in bed with me for two more minutes before he left for work, just to be sure he wasn't leaving me over cream cheese and leftover spaghetti.

The picture above is how Sunday evening ended for our family--the girls taking turns standing on the desktop and having church. They're actually quite good at it. "Dear Jesus, I hope you are proud of all we're doing here today." And she makes us recite a little liturgy, too. Mary handles all the singing. And for the record, they do it with completely sincere hearts. So much so, that I almost feel uncomfortable, if I sit on the sofa and flip through a book while they have "church".

And after everyone was in bed, I had a little reunion, all alone, at my kitchen table. It was so good.