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Apparently it's no-shave November at his school, but he's going to break the trust and shave for Thanksgiving day. "It's time," he says, scratching under his chin. (And if you wonder why I have so many photos of my son looking at his phone, it's because only then does he ignore my camera.)

He took me to get work out sneakers tonight, took me to a running store where I could be properly fitted. It was the sort of place I would never have walked into without him. The sales people would have looked at me like, what is she doing here? But with my son, my fit athletic boy, I felt right at home. He approached the sales guy, arm around my shoulder and said, "We're looking for work out shoes for her." I wandered around the store while he consulted with the salesperson, until he called me over and said, "What do you think of these?" I was very compliant, trying on shoes, giving my opinion of the fit, letting my feet be poked and prodded through the sneakers. I chose a steel gray pair that hugs my feet like little pillows. I realized I am not used to my feet not hurting in shoes. Maybe I will wear those sneakers to the office tomorrow. And every day after that.

My heart son, E., is also here tonight. He and my boy and my husband are watching  the football game and being very loquacious, all of them. I love hearing these animated men in the background of my life. The house is full again. And my sweet girl arrives tomorrow.