Rare

Olivia is kindly becoming more predictable in schedule, and unexpected in personality.
Today we hear that she and her friend Noah are cooperating in the naughty behavior of attempting to sneak out of their room at school - Noah can reach the handle so he turns the crank and she pushes on the door. But she's taking longer naps at home and school and is very rarely up during the night, finds dinner to her liking when we get home and can eat with Mom and I at the table even if she is mostly finished. Small things that make our evening move comfortably. She has taken on the task of feeding Henry in the evening, and accepts most other distracting tasks willingly and with curiosity. I admire my daughter, for I'm fairly certain I could not have been this confident or happy or easy. I miss her very much during the day, and can't really remember what I did with my evenings.
I'm trying to build her a small table, for eating and coloring, with wood left from her changing table. The project reminds me that the work of improving and editing writing is a much different thing than creating and modifying something made of cellulose, held together with screws and hinges, but the task seems more appropriate for her and for my time. Even more than writing this. But maybe both will be useful to her someday?
This may also just be thoughts to preface more great pictures taken by her mother.