At the risk of being supremely cheesy, I’m going to do a little list of happy moments from my day -- a little exercise to remind myself that being a mostly stay-at-home mom is as much endless little gifts as it is endless little chores. (You’ll notice that dish-washing and processing Owen’s cloth diapers didn’t make the list.)
It’s the little stuff:
That last kisses and bear hugs Owen and I shared with Will as he nearly hopped with excitement at the prospect of spending a morning with his friends and his beloved Miss Jodi at school.
Using Rob’s grandmother’s roasting pan for the first time in my life to roast a chicken.
Drizzling olive oil over a whole chicken, laid on a bed of sweet potatoes, onions and baby carrots. Then sprinkling paprika, rosemary, kosher salt, pepper and rosemary over the top. (Even though I don’t do it often, I kind of like cooking a whole bird.)
Smelling that chicken and those spices mingling in the oven and wafting through the house for a couple morning hours.
Reading another woman’s autobiographical journey, so different from my own. Finding pockets of time (mostly while nursing Owen) to actually read a book. (“Eat, Pray, Love” is an entertaining romp through one woman’s search for meaning and love in her life. I’m in the “pray” portion of the book now. And I think it’s all the Yoga/Buddhist-influenced talk about living in the now -- rather than brooding about the past or fretting about the future -- that inspired me to do this list. All ideas I’ve read and found wisdom in before, but I always need reminding.)
Dancing and singing Owen to sleep just before noon, knowing he’d had a too-short morning nap and that this midday nap he was on the brink of slipping into would set him back on track.
Discussing with Will, as we set off in the double stroller to the park, the meaning of the word “glorious,” (the adjective I’d chosen to describe today’s cloudless, windless 70-degree weather, this touch of springtime before the mosquitoes and cockroaches descend on Columbus. Ooops. There I go into the future.) And how “glorious” sounds a lot like “Gloria,” the dog hero in this book we are currently borrowing from the library.
Spotting my friend Terese from a quarter mile away, not because I was close enough to discern any physical characteristics, but because she was hiding behind a tree. (She is the only mom I know who reliably and consistently plays hide-and-seek with her daughter at the park.)
Receiving this gift of a red-bud bouquet from Terese’s daughter, Breigha.
And then this red-bud petal offering from Will (who enjoys following Breigha around).
Watching Owen explore the park on his own level. (Grass, leaves, and dirt are so fun to explore with little hands. And miraculously the kid can go almost a minute without trying to ingest it all.)
Eating dinner on our back deck for the first time this year. Listening to Rob and Will make up stories about how they saw each other at work: Rob was out in the field and Will was driving a tractor.
Listening to Rob’s nonfiction dinnertime stories of happening upon deer and watching parachuting soldiers jump from an airplane during his day in the woods at Fort Benning.
Listening to the laughter from the bathroom as Rob gives Will and Owen their nightly duo bath.
Taking these moments to put it all down.
Try your own list today or tomorrow or one day next week. And if you’re in the mood, share your moments right here.