Tuesday brought a new set of hurdles. Leo woke up with a raspy throat and a red face, complaining of a cold. I spent the morning in a frantic balancing act: bundling Maya into the car for her ballet recital while keeping Leo hydrated and entertained with cartoons and soup.
“Gran, look! I’m a swan!” Maya twirled on her tiptoes, begging for my attention.
I pirouetted with her, one hand holding a thermometer and the other a ballet bag. It was a dance of exhaustion that Marcus and Sarah never saw—a performance they took for granted. As I smoothed Maya’s leotard, I looked at the calendar on the fridge.
The “Lesson” was no longer a plan. It was an inevitability.
