Nora's school is closing. She is ten years old and in her new pink pjs that Santa brought her two days ago and laughing one minute showing me her new lego creation and the next moment she is in tears, hiding under her sleeve, peeking out only when I offer a drink, a tissue. It was a big mess of years of adults fighting and digging their heels in and now suddenly just like that, it is over. Next week we go to check out two schools for her to begin anew. One is a standard public school and the other is a Christian school that her siblings have come to call home. I told Nora that her school would close on Christmas. I know it sounds bad but really it wasn't. It was this quiet moment when it was just she and I drawing in her new drawing pad and it felt like the time. She cried and then she was back again, eating pie with my mother in law, talking about the present that Santa brought for her. And the next day I took this picture and how perfect for Nora. Such a bright star in our home, always with such big laughter or big crocodile tears. Trying to keep her young, trying to keep her safe, sometimes it feels like a full time job. If I think about it, I cant believe what has been delivered this week. Too many presents, so much that I could just throw it all out the window and scream. So much that I had to leave the house just to relax today. This week delivered a devastated 22 year old on my couch, so hurt by life, so fragile. And then there is the reminders however subtle that they are, people are missing in our lives. It just doesn't seem right. I want to be happy and joyous and free and it is a full time job to do that part all day long. What I really want is to grab on to my children, pack them away and move somewhere far far away. A place where sadness does not happen, children are always kind and God is real. For tonight I will tuck them in and tell them I love them and dream of little babies and sweet lullabies.