After months of waiting to see them, my sons are finally here! Max (on the left) made the mistake of telling me that the moon looked really cool over the mountains, so I made him and Sam get up on the roof with me while I took their picture. They’re used to this, I’ve been sticking a camera in their faces forever.
They flew in from Providence Thursday night and Buck and I feel like we’ve just been laughing ever since. They’ve been cracking us up, and helping us move furniture. Actually, they’ve done all the furniture moving. This is the first time we’ve had our furniture in the house and it’s excellent … I forgot how nice it is to have a couch to sit on. And they didn’t even complain while I carefully considered each move of the couch or chairs and then said, “No, let’s try it over here instead …” 
I did that four or five or five times.
My daughter Cody is staying in Boston for the holiday. It was a tough decision for her, I know she wanted to be with us but she also wanted to be with her boyfriend. I stayed out of it by supporting her decision whatever she chose. It’s hard enough to make decisions without your mother putting in her two-cents. I know this because my own mother had an opinion about everything and didn’t need any prompting to verbalize it, and wouldn’t stop verbalizing even when you asked her to. My mother’s constant “advice” made life miserable, actually. I never want to inflict that on my kids. We miss Cody, but that’s all part of this growing up stuff I guess. (My growing up, but her as well.) She sent a surprise duffel bag of Christmas packages on the plane with the boys, “To make me and Sam look bad, as usual,” Max said. But I said, “Yay! Thank god for daughters! Now give me that wonderful-wonderful duffel bag …”
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