Back to CA

So I'm back in Palo Alto, sitting in sweat pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt with both doors to my hotel room patio wide open. I realize weather is not usually an exciting topic, but it quite seriously blows my mind that there exists a place anywhere in the continental US that is less than 60 degrees in August. I find it comforting, actually. It's after midnight my time, but my happiness at the chill in the air is powering me through all the work I need to get done before I meet the partner for breakfast at 7 a.m. Well, that and the glass of red wine I just poured myself from the mini bar.

In between airplanes and hotel rooms, I have been doing a lot of deep thinking and decision making and even the tiniest bit of picture taking. Behold, my Biscuit, now more commonly called "Bear." She is a force of nature and will likely one day rule the world. For now, she's settling for complete domination of her home, daycare, and big brother.

A quick story: I picked the kids up from daycare on Thursday, and because Claire was in the hallway coming in from a buggy ride, she saw me before I could pick up Landon first like I usually do. So I grabbed her up, with her big smiles, dangerously enthusiastic gesticulating, and ear-splitting squawks of happiness, and took her to the "big kid" room to collect her brother. I set Claire down on the floor so I could sign Landon out (my left side is useless for carrying children and/or holding a pen), and rather than be overwhelmed by the large room with its large, loud kids running around, Claire marched right through the center of them, batting wayward 4-year-olds out of her way, got to the lunch table, pulled out a chair, sat herself down, and then banged on the table, like, "Hey! I'm here, come, listen to your new master." Then she surveyed her new kingdon and nodded, likely thinking that "yes, this is much better. Now, you there, bring me your favorite toy."