I'm writing to you from the fine city of Boston, where I'm on a bit of a road trip with my biggest boys (and their littlest sister, who goes wherever Mama goes). We had the pleasure of watching Boston Ballet's Nutcracker at the Opera House - such a treat for our eyes and souls, and a true delight for my little dancers.
I had grand plans after of all the walking and looking we would do around the city, but we landed ourselves deep in the yummy goodness of Flour Bakery (thanks to a twitter recommend from our friends at Barefoot Books!), where this Nutcracker performance was properly compared, contrasted, and dissected role by role and costume by costume by my boys for two entire hours. I heard some talk of grooming Harper, and a future trio of Soule Brother russian cossack dancers. They refined their (ongoing) plan to get themselves to New York City next year to see the NYCBallet version, the big Balanchine fan that Calvin is. I heard tell once again of that apartment in the city they plan on sharing someday. Someday when they're professional dancers and musicians and record producers, they say.
I love being a (small) part of such conversations with these getting-bigger-by-the-second dreamers of mine. My heart swells hearing their plans, hearing just how much they believe is possible in this life. (I believe too.)
We have a bit more visiting to do with the Boston Aunties, as they're called. SoulePapa is flying solo with just two kids back at home, where I thought he'd take full advantage of resting in the relative quiet (of just two!), but checking my phone at intermission, I found the following text:
"I took two walls down! Cleaned up and in my truck. Like they were never there!"
Well then, I think we best be getting home soon.