The witching hour, somebody had once whispered to her, was a special moment in the middle of the night when every child and every grown-up was in a deep deep sleep, and all the dark things came out from hiding and had the world all to themselves.
― Roald Dahl, The BFG
Sweet bean has entered that magical world of witching, and I tag along sleepily. Last night I awoke to an empty bed and a blurry view of a little bum. Bean had pulled himself up to the grownup bed and stood there, surveying his sleeping companions. I think he had every intention of climbing up and playing with boomer, but I gathered him back to our mat before he had a chance. Thank goodness he didn’t lose his balance; those skull-cracking impacts are more than I can bear. We played for a bit then drifted off to sleep again. This morning, I found him halfway to the space heater. It looks like we’ll be rearranging some furniture tonight.
Today was my first day in the gym since 2014. It has been a long time. I always have this problem: whenever I stop exercising for whatever reason, I have a bear getting started again. Sometimes it’s a teddy bear, sometimes it’s a koala bear; this time it’s a polar bear.
I’ve had false starts; here’s pledging today’s start will stick.