It seems like lately all I've been doing is the very same thing every single day. Wake up. Prayers (in which I always pray that I can have enough energy to make it through the day, oh, and that my children will not die) Get kids breakfast. Give Greggory a bath. Clean house. Exercise. Quick shower. Lunch. Possible give Greggory another bath. Storytime. Naptime (for everyone, even me). Playtime. Dinner. Scriptures. Bed. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Sometimes I think I will go crazy.
And yet, it's not all drudgery. I've learned to take as much pleasure as possible in the littlest things. For example:
a working vacuum brings a lot of joy.
Magic Erasers are reason enough to get up in the morning.
A new kind of cheese for my lunch sandwich makes me smile.
I've also learned that there is no substitute for premium laundry detergent.
I've also learned to enjoy my children for their little accomplishments as well.
Brooklyn's anxiety about riding the bus as completely subsided and that is reason enough to celebrate.
Roman's announcement about "hitting the hole" in the toilet always brings a sigh of relief.
and whenever Greggory attaches a "pwetty pwease?" to his requests makes me hug him tight.
So the grand thought here is that life is all about the little moments. The difference in the overall quality of my life is to be grateful for the little things.
And I think I have a pretty good life.
God is Sometimes a Fourth-Watch God
2 weeks ago