"Mommy, I made a picture. It's you and your...."

"...compooter, Mommy. Look! Let's frame it!"

This weekend, my adorable jumping bean of a four-year-old little boy drew me his very first portrait of me. And there I am. Not making cookies with him, or reading to him, or playing time machine with him. But just standing there smiling next to what is, apparently, the one true talisman of my happiness: my compooter.

I was, of course, actually on my laptop finishing something up for the day when he presented the drawing to me. I stopped, said thank you, told him I loved that he used my favorite color. Then I proceeded to have some feelings about the picture, not all of which were particularly self-assured. I'm in a big work month at the moment, finishing up edits on my book. Thanks to bad timing, the boys are on spring break and around for lots of playtime...with our awesome caregiver, not with me.

As I often do in such times, I turned to my Francesca/Allison/Ashley group text:

Me: I give you: portrait of my mommy and her computer. Sigh.
Ashley: Much better than with a bottle of wine, no?
Me: True. But he gave it to me while I was working!
Allison: If you weren't working what would you be doing? When I am not working, I am not spending 100% of my time doing kid-picture-worthy things. This is fine. Frame it.
Francesca: [Francesca was a few minutes behind, probably because she actually was doing kid-picture worthy things, but that's okay because she was the hero of yesterday's post.]

And just like that I let it go, except for one thing: I got a haircut today. Because that length does look nicer on me. Thanks, sweet boy.