The Thanksgiving feast, was, as always, fantastic. It actually isn't so much about the feast as it is about being with people who make me feel like I am H-O-M-E. Cousins played hide and seek in the huge house, dogs played wildly together, in between begging for scraps from the counter and tables, adults who have been celebrating this holiday on and off together for 25 years catching up...it was all just lovely, and relaxing, and, well, home.

Fast forward to today, when I arrived home with the kids (my husband was off buying a soapstone sink for our kitchen)...fighting, complaining, hitting, screaming. I know they are tired. I know that is what makes them behave this way. But I really can't stand it. They act like children I cannot stand. They act like spoiled, rotten, ungrateul brats. But they aren't. They are just tired. But, so am I. So the oldest and the youngest are spending the next 45 minutes in their respective rooms. It started out as a 1/2 hour, but they both screwed up, so it is now 45. My daugther things I am being ridiculous. And maybe I am. Fighting is normal amongst siblings. But I am in no mood to tolerate it today. I want to continue to be thankful for what I have, to carry with me the feeling of peace and loveliness I had all day yesterday, to not have that feeling disturbed by screaming and fighting and general ugliness.

I have a right to that, more of a right to that than my children have a right to fight. For today, at least. Maybe they will get the message and respect our right to live peacefully in this house...