Emily had a bad day at school yesterday. It was a bit upsetting for me because there she was crying into the phone from the nurse's office and I was stuck over an hour away from her. All I wanted to do was get to her and hold her. But I couldn't.
Thankfully, Grammy was close by and was able to reach the school within 10 minutes. She told me that Em had stopped crying at that point but was shaking when she picked her up.
One wall of my jail cell (or cubicle, whatever you want to call it) is full of drawings that the girls have made me. I have a folder at my desk stuffed full of drawings because I cannot bear to throw them into my recycling bin. Each and every one means something special to me. I sometimes find a drawing wedged between items in my work bag. Or placed on top. Or sometimes as I'm rushing out the door, one of the girls will call out, "Wait! I'm making a picture for you!"
Em drew a Tangled picture for me a few weeks ago. It has been sitting on my desk next to my monitor. Every time I look at little green Pascal, drawn only as a four year old could draw him, I smile.