The boys and I are moved in to the Tempe house. Daily rocking and assorted snack treats requirements are meeting expectations and even exceeding in many cases.

While I have been working less, the twins have been able to sleep in, eat a full breakfast, watch Qubo (Canada's finest cartoons) and generally chill. I seldom rush to get them in earlier than 9 am. When Barbara has to take them, the boys could be there as early as 7:30 and my mother might not pick them up until five.

Long day for anyone, let alone those two.

My schedule for next week is unknown to me. There are certainly elements of lazing around all day that I enjoy. I'd hoped I would discover some grand industrious self but alas, only a dabbler.

When I pull into the gravel parking area in front of their school a little play ensues. I step out of the car and before I close the door Remy says "You lost us!" Remy was the first to say it; now they both do. I crunch along to open the passenger door. When I do they smile and say "You found us!" They jump out of the car and then we head on into school.

The first time Remy said I lost him and I had not yet learned to play the game, I paused before I shut my door. "No, I haven't lost you. But I suppose I will, eventually."

Not in the dramatic life-loss sense. My relationship with my nephews is growing and changing, just as they are. In our time together I expect to lose them and find them many, many times.

Fortunately for them, I am an excellent finder of lost things.