I love this picture my friend Lynn took of Luke at preschool. Maybe she used one of those new-fangled filters or something (yes, way behind the times on this), because he looks like he could be circa 1974.

Speaking of which, I borrowed a Mr. Rogers video from the library and watched it with the kids the other day. Was he the world's nicest man, or what? I long to have and to give that kind of quiet, gentle attention. To walk in and change my shoes and sweater, everything neat and orderly. To usher us through transitions with a song. To slowly pay attention to something like a flashlight, the batteries that go in, the sounds of these things and the quiet in between the sounds. Simple stuff that's full of appreciation and approval.

The puppets were still a little weird. Lady Elaine still disconcerting. The trolley taking us to the land of make pretend still a bit otherworldly. But whenever there are real people on with Mr. R., or when he is just talking to singing to us, it is the best, nicest, most genuine stuff. It is like being in parenting church.