Today, there was a bomb threat in Decatur city schools. My little Neiko was on lockdown in his tiny kindergarten classroom. And I was right outside of the school. Right outside of his classroom. I sat there doing my work - taking intermediate breaks to pray and to stare out the window. We had no details. But I knew that if Neiko was there - I'd be there too.
The dough...
Neiko's teacher eventually snuck him out to me once they were told that the threats were actually in another location within Decatur. The threats were surrounding Noah's daycare. But Noah was home in his crib nuzzled under blankets snoring loudly.

Tonight while I finished work, the boys painted their arms, faces, and hands. Once finished, I prayed, again, for the children and families still affected, looked for updates and then I put on my apron and began to mise en place my baking station. I had an idea to bake the most extravagant caramel monkey bread.

For context, I usually don't bake desserty desserts on a weeknight unless I have someone I can share it with. I mean I have baby weight that is still holding on, I don't want my boys to have too much sugar and tomorrow...tomorrow...tomorrow...

Well, tonight, on this random Tuesday in November. I decided to celebrate the day - the moment - the fact that we were all safe in our little cozy apartment. I put on some slow jams to accompany the wind hitting my kitchen window and made a caramel sauce with tons of sugar and butter. Dough with another stick of butter, flour, spices, SUGAR, and cinnamon and we watched it go bubbly and caramelly in the oven. I made delicious hot beverages without skipping on the whipped cream, and we ate our desserts in big comfy socks on the couch before dinner.

I love to plan for tomorrow, but I'm tired of living for it. So today, we will live, eat, and be grateful for this moment. For the present. For monkey bread on a Tuesday.

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