Spring Break

Started Monday by dropping a box cutter on my foot. Rethinking ambition to become professional knife-thrower.

Further insomnia: woke up at 1am and mentally rehashed series-finale episode of Battlestar, searching for answers to gaping plot holes and going off into angry sleepy plans to track down writers and knock their heads against the floor and demand a revised finale.

Am back from a weekend with my mother, having flown over with the kids to drop off Gavin for spring break. The house is empty without him. We both woke last night, certain he had walked into the room and spoken to us, so I phoned my mother first thing in the morning to make sure he had only been dreamwalking and not visiting as a ghost. He said he had dreamed of us, too, and didn't seem surprised we had heard him. Weird.

In other news: Gavin learned to eat with chopsticks, Leif learned to clap, my mother and I saved a colony of enormous toads, and Mike tried to defend a bouncy castle against a horde of teenagers. Productive weekend.