Sweet Best

Sweet Best:

The other day, I was driving Paige to her dance recital. She said, "Mom, you're the 'Sweet Best'." I said, "Thank you." Then, she said, "Do you know what that means?" I honestly didn't, but it sounded like a compliment, so I just went with it. She said, "That means you're a good Mom." Awww...It meant so much to me (especially since I was just dropping her off at her dance recital and wasn't going in to watch-she had another one about a month ago, but we were quadruple-booked for the evening, so Greg and I couldn't attend).

Pretty:

When I was dropping her off for the dance recital, she was meeting Alexie and Abby. She said, "Alexie is going to think I'm so pretty." I told her that she is always pretty, with her gorgeous brown eyes and adorable smile. She said, "I know...except when I'm crying...or mad." When I dropped her off, she and Abby ran to each other (squealing with delight) and hugged. Hilarious!

Delicious:

One of our favorite shows is Tangled. Paige sings along with all the songs. There is one song called, "I Have a Dream" that begins with the following lyrics:

I'm malicious, mean, and scary

My sneer could curdle dairy

This is how Paige sings it:

I'm delicious, mean, and scary

My smile could turtle hairy

Heart Happy

I walked out the front door last night and saw this. It made my heart so happy. There were 6 or 7 boys playing whiffleball in the street. They used sidewalk chalk to draw in the bases and pitcher's mound. They decided to only have two bases instead of three because there weren't enough people playing. They took turns in every position. They argued over calls and complimented big hits. It was adorable!

It made me think of this:

It made me think that maybe we really can raise these kids in a world where, every once in a while, they can put down their DS, their ipads, their computer games, and all the pressure that we put on them, and just enjoy a fun game of street baseball.

Happy.

Clubs

I walked past the girl's room this afternoon and saw this:

I had a couple of thoughts:

#1:

#2:

#3:

Warning

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about those signs that they have in industrial workplaces. The ones that indicate how many days the company/plant/division has gone without an on-the-job accident.

I've been considering posting something similar in my kitchen:

I'm thinking that "Days" may be a little too ambitious. Perhaps "Hours" would be more realistic.

He's Not Heavy, He's My Brother

Life has been too heavy lately. I have felt heavy. Getting out of bed every morning has been a challenge. I find myself dreading the day, and it feels so strange to even smile. It's been a rough go. Time to change. Time to smile. Time to laugh. Time to let my children exist in a happy home.

So...

I turn to my good friend, the blog. I've decided that I am going to start look for opportunities throughout the day to blog about. Like this morning, I vacuumed and mopped as soon as the kids left for school. I started with the kitchen, and while I was working on another part of the house, Paige decided that she wanted some milk. True to form, Paige didn't ask for help but decided to do it herself. This would be a disastrous situation in and of itself (given that Paige is possibly the most adorable, most clumsy child I've yet to encounter), but we opened a new gallon of milk this morning. Yep. That's right. Milk, all over the kitchen floor. Ironically, there was not one drop in the small cup that she chose. Obviously the person who coined the phrase, "Don't cry over spilled milk" never had a Paige.

Now, to my credit (I mean, I deserve a TON of credit), I didn't yell. But, how much funnier would it have been if I would have stopped, snapped a picture of the clean floor, milk pool, the empty carton, and the bright, shiny, spotless cup in the middle of the disaster?!?

I started this blog with the idea that it would be cheaper than therapy. In the past several months, I've started a dozen or so posts, but I felt that I couldn't publish them because they weren't honest. I certainly don't pretend that our family is perfect-far from it actually. But because I was/am feeling so bad about myself, anything that showed happiness, I felt that it was a lie. How backward is that??? The fact is that we have 9 people living in this house; 9 personalities...9 bodies with hormones and tummy aches and headaches and bodies that get tired and rarely get enough sleep...9 social networks...9 schedules...and at least 18 loads of laundry. There is so much good that happens during the day, so many funny situations, and so many hilarious conversations. And there are some really difficult, exhausting, downright messy moments every.single.day.

So, here is my public admission that I will look for those little moments during the day to blog about. I will start my "Grateful" section again, and update the funny things that my kids say.

I will search for the joy again.

I will find it.

I really need new carpet, so I can't be blowing that money on a therapist.