Day 31

Before dinner, my family of four gathered in front of the house with hockey sticks in hand, goals planted on either side of the street, and an old tennis ball. It's a rare occasion that we get to play two on two. I usually leave the street hockey to the boys of the family; I can't help but admire Rob in his enthusiastic footwork and joyful eyes when he plays with his sons, but I usually admire from our front steps. It was grown-ups against kids--better for Tuck and Will to play with each other than against--but the sweetest part was that every time I made a goal, Will hugged me in a victory celebration even as we played on opposing sides. Tuck doesn't hug much in public anymore, but when I got a hat trick, he put an arm around my shoulders to congratulate me. For the past week, I've been trying to wrap my mind around being the mother of three boys, and each day, it's the boys I already have who let me know just how lucky I am.

And that, readers, is my thirty-first Slice of Life. Mary, a fellow slicer, said it nicely when she wrote the effort worked to "untangle the knotty string of thoughts" in her head. I'm in whole-hearted agreement on that point, and it is for that reason that I hesitate to call it quits now at the end of the month. Daily writing has played an important role in my last thirty-one days, and I'm glad to have been part of this community that values it, too.