It’s Earth Day! Even though I’m not the greenest mom on the block, I keep trying to do my part for the planet. In honor of the great outdoors, we had a living room campfire. (No, there’s no irony there).

Drex left us a series of envelopes with going-away notes to tide us over in his absence. Our first one said—

Today I left you toothpicks for a campfire in the living room. These are for roasting marshmallows! Remember, there are three steps when making a campfire.

1. Pick a good spot for the fire. There should be space for people to sit around the fire.
2. Put some sticks where you want the fire to be.
3. Light the fire with some matches.

We used pretend matches… but the marshmallows were real.

It was good that we learned an important survival skill this morning. Because our living room looks like a post-apocalyptic doomscape.

Sonya trundled through the wreckage with two Eeyores in the stroller.

“We need to hurry! We need to hurry!”

She’d secured them with a rope. Good thing, too. The stroller went careening past me into the safety of her makeshift shelter.

“Leave your camera! You need to get under here, Mom!”

“I don’t think I’m going to fit…”

“Hurry! Hurry! Get under here!”

I’m half-inside, thinking we’ve all just barely escaped from the slavering jaws of some hellish monster when Sonya started sobbing uncontrollably.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I said, wrapping her in my arms. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s hurting!” she wailed. This isn’t pretend anymore. This is real.

“What? What’s hurting?” I didn’t see anything happen, but I immediately checked her elbows to make sure she hadn’t dislocated one again.

“My heart is hurting!” she sobbed into my shoulder. After I comforted her for a few minutes, she said, “I want to watch a movie under here. Get the iPad, Mom.”

And you know what? Marshmallows before breakfast and a movie on the iPad seemed just like what we needed to do this morning.

It was really cold outside. We left the house for provisions after morning naps. We didn’t wear gloves. According to the weather report, it was one degree Celsius, but with the windchill, it felt like seven below zero.

By the time we got home, our hands were red and raw. I had a hard time getting my key in the lock.

Then in keeping with today’s theme, we shared a can of soup for dinner. While I washed our bowls, Sonya pushed a chair over to the world map hanging in our kitchen. I’d pointed out Barbados earlier.

She leaned in and kissed the map right over the specks of the Lesser Antilles.

“I’m thinking about you, Daddy,” she told the wall.