Thank you for Julian crawling outside by himself to sit in the wind. Trying to find his way back to the front door and choosing a questionable path through a patch of iris stalks newly emerged from the thawed earth. Giving up halfway to sit in the middle of the spiky green stems and cry. Thank you for Eloise spinning herself dizzy on the swing in the yard as I pause to watch her through the kitchen window. The five-hundred year-old juniper tree billowing above her, the whole yard flapping in the wind. And when the sound of the radio travels into the yard, she runs inside and does ballet twirls to Regina Spektor in the freshly painted kitchen. Closing her eyes as she sways back and forth to the music.