So I added an new little ditty to the left that seems to sum up loving a lost child. My dear heart friend posted this and it so resonated with me about how I go through my days I had to take it as part of my own. I hope D. is not offended (I strongly suspect not)

And that is how it goes. Last week was hell. Last weekend was hell. And the nights, oh my god the nights. While I speak some Russian, even today I do not truly understand all the swear words Sasha flings at me. Standard university language classes do not teach such things. Just last night I finally understood one of them, though mime. Totally yuck.

Yet, today, he was good with babushka while I was at work. Even once I was home he was great for most of the night. He tasted all the veggies I cut up and made sure to lick all the utensils I used to make cookies (that was a highlight of my childhood too). What a sweetie.