Hard days are hard. Even on the worst, if I really try, I can find some reason to feel grateful, some small miracle to help me make it through. Here is my growing list of the reasons. Feel free to add yours.
-white sailboats on a blue Lake Washington summer day, fat cheeks resting on the shoulders of a sleeping toddler, ballet shoes the size of a Vlasic stacker, Dan reading jokes from the Reader’s Digest, a harvest moon rising over the tree-tops on our hill, Magoo waving frantically every time a car starts its engine, Laylee asleep with her arms outstretched completely trusting completely secure, the patio drenched in blue moonlight like it was lit on a soundstage, Magoo running to the laundry room with his arms outstretched to catch the dust flying from the lint trap as I change loads, the man I fell in love with 5 years ago who has carried me through my hard times, crazy 8′s, salamanders alive or dead, broccoli that tastes like cheese with a hint of broccoli, prophets, 83 more sleeps, Papa Murphy, spider-cide spray in my crawlspace, Cabbage Patch Kids, hard hats in children’s sizes, string cheese, visits from family, Magoo lifting every pumpkin he sees over his head and smashing it to the ground and laughing, the sippy cup that didn’t leak, piles of leaves, cinnamon sticks, fluffy socks, spongy bones for children, exterminators, the giant rat vacuum, car insurance, toilet tabs, sleep, microwave popcorn, Dan’s freshly shaven face, ELECTRICITY, rolling half-chewed apples, playdates, future Oscar wins, pigs feet, video messages from Dan, chocolate cupcakes, sisters, fists full of dandelions, bleenkits, tulips, whispered “I love you”s, Band-Aids, sun in the Pacific Northwest, reconciliations, Costco, cilantro, blue sky, Dan greeting me in the morning with an invitation to go clothes shopping, red leaves, paper bags with handles, people who drive with their dog’s head sticking out the window so Magoo can lose his very mind, a Santa who arrives on a fire engine, mittened hands eating sugar cookies, husbands who make dinner and do all the dishes so their wives can crochet
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Molly’d drunk-on-milk face, hitting the snooze button & curling up to Shane wrapped up in his oldest, softest T-shirt, homemade salsa.
What a beautiful idea: Reasons:)
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old detective novels, bubble bath, little baby-sized rubber boots lined up on the front step, cookie crumb kisses, chocolate chip cookies, a hot cup of tea on the porch at the end of the day, counting stars with my honey, the baby’s red riding hood coat, magazines in the mail, brushing my teeth (who doesn’t like the minty clean feeling of fresh teeth? Bad people, that’s who)…
and on and on and on.
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Great kids that grew up smart, fun, talented, capable, thoughtful, creative and then had smart fun, talented, capable, and most definitely creative kids! Kind friends. Smiles from your spouse. Hope. Hugs from your oh so tall, used to be small, chillin’s.
Kids that come home to visit and laugh.
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Puppy sighs
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The way your five-month-old’s face lights up when ever he sees you- and he doesn’t look that way at anybody else, not even his dad.
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Sending your kids off to school and realizing you can’t wait until they get home that afternoon.
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yoplait whips
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satisfied milky sighs as they nod off to dreamland, ‘Mama” carefully written in crayon, picking pumpkns at the local organic farm, autumn twilight and the pile of leaves begging to be jumped in, boys jumping in those leaves, little tiny red Chuck T Converse sneakers, small fingers that reach out to touch your face, the smell as you nuzzle after a bath, the tiny clink the baby spoon makes on that frist tooth, wriggling with joy, the first frost on the backyard garden, the first fire of the year, the pregnant quiet of the house on Christmas Eve when they are all asleep,
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the full moon, dry clothes, tape, puppy kisses, the USPS, pineapple juice,
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That huge toothy grin on my toddler’s face that is just for me. The sound of him singing nonsense words to himself when he is alone and doesn’t know I am listening. The way he pauses in his playing, runs to me for a quick cuddle and puts his head on my shoulder… then runs off again to resume playing. The memory, still so vivid, of the moment he was born, the intense relief that the work was over and the joy of “it’s a boy!” (Also, I love that “pregnant quiet of the house on Christmas Eve” – I agree!)
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My 4-yr-old nephew greeting me with a hug and with “I MISSED you!”
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Hugs from the baby and pats on the back when I lift him from his crib. Little baby pats are the best.
Blown kisses from same baby.
new words, said with gusto, lately it’s “uh oh!”
running up to me with “mama” on his lips after I’ve been gone.
Hmm, see a theme here, I love this baby!
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Peeling an orange to discover that it is pregnant.
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Pingback: Gratitude
puppy smiles, chocolate chips, wine: red and white and blush and any other type, kisses kisses kisses
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The greeting I get when I come home from work like we haven’t seen each other in days and hearing her say “My mommy works at the Air Force, what does yours do?”
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The Daring One Reply:
August 19th, 2008 at 10:47 am
OOooooo. Love this one.
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Puppy breath, little man’s hugs, unsolicited baby kisses, “Monny! Hi Monny!” when I come home, the way he does the same for his Daddy, the way he loves his grandparents, the first pair of shoes he ever wore out, the fact that he’s smart, sweet, and perfectly healthy, the way everything is “Punny” (funny) or “Cute”, kitty purring in my lap, a good cup of mocha coffee, homemade meatloaf, days off from work, A’s on hard tests, trying to be the person my dogs think I am.
Being “enough” to make everything okay for someone.
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