Remembering This Moment: A Golden Afternoon at Balboa Park

I take pictures.

Of everything.

All day long.

And when I get the chance, I write about the things going on in those pictures.

With these pictures and words, I strive to capture the myriad of moments that make up my life.

I want to remember them--from the grandiose to the mundane.

This week I have been reminded afresh of the fragility of this life.

These moments we have together truly are treasures.

No, not all of them.

I don't subscribe to the idea that I should, or even can, treasure every moment.

Some of them I really won't miss.

But there are plenty that I will.

And so I snap away, I write things down in my head, and then here on this blog.

This little life of mine matters.

And so does yours.

Do your best to treasure the moments you are making with the ones you love.

This poem, one of my favorites, expresses it so much more eloquently than prose ever could.

The Coin

by Sara Teasdale

Into my heart's treasury

I slipped a coin

That time cannot take

Nor a thief purloin,--

Oh, better than the minting

Of a gold-crowned king

Is the safe-kept memory

Of a lovely thing

................................................................................................................................................................

Last week the kids and I drove to San Diego for the day.

We spent time visiting with my Dad's family, and seeing some of the spots from his childhood.

We had a wonderful time.

Before the long drive home, I decided to stop at Balboa Park and let the kids run around.

Nothing would be open--it was near 6 o clock--but none of us cared about that.

We're happy just exploring together, and drinking in beautiful things.

Entering Balboa Park on the Laurel Street Bridge is a nice way to begin.

We started at the Organ Pavillion.
I don't know.
I might be taking a few too many pictures.
The kids posed like this themselves and said, "hey Mom, take a picture of me."

Next up, a big, mosaic snake to climb on.
Oh how my kids do love to climb.

The Museum of Man was already closed, but that didn't stop us from enjoying the architecture.
"These buildings are so fancy!" Lilly said.

William took the camera for a while and took lots of blurry shots as we walked down the arched hallways.

When I was little, one of my favorite parts of Balboa Park was the Spanish Village Art Center.
I loved all the bright colors.
It felt like I had traveled to a far away land.
I still feel all those things.
I love this spot.

The sun began to set and its golden light enveloped us.
I looked at each one of them in turn, and my heart and eyes filled.
I thought how lucky I was to be spending these moments with my children.
They are happy just to walk around with their mommy: no agenda, no treats, no exciting events planned--just the simple joy of being together and seeing new things.
I told them, with tears in my eyes, that one day they would be all grown up, with families of their own, and we wouldn't have times like this anymore--just the 5 of us.
I said, "I love you so.  You are my favorites. And I love more than anything to be with you."
I knew that moment was a gift.

A golden afternoon indeed.

I'm doing my best to remember the magic of these simple, beautiful days.
Love from,
Greta
*There is more to Balboa Park than the Zoo! 
I added the links to the places we enjoyed at Balboa Park.  
There are so many more things to see and do there.  
Other things my kids have enjoyed are the Model Railway Museum, the Miniature Railroad, and the carousel (be sure to try for the brass ring!).
They are very much looking forward to going back and exploring some more museums, like the Natural History Museum, and the Air and Space Museum.
They've asked me several times now when we're going back to Balboa Park to explore more, so I know our short visit was a success.
Soon, kids, I promise!

Don't Judge Me Because I Like a Clean House

Have you noticed it is not very popular to be a mother of young children who likes to keep her house clean?

What I mean is this.

Anytime you confess that sometimes you just want to get the dishes done and put away the laundry, everyone and their brother will say something like this: "but the dishes will always be there.  Your kids won't."

Dun, dun, DUNNNNN.

Translation: if you choose to clean rather than be with your kids, you totally suck as a mom, and your kids will know that you don't value them, and in a short time when they grow up, you will all be in therapy as a result of your choosing to wash the dishes.

At least that is how it feels to me sometimes.

How many of us praise ourselves, or each other, because we ignored the dishes and read to the kids instead?

How many of us have Pintrested this saying, "A clean house is a sign of a wasted life," and have that saying haunting us every time we shoo our kids outside to play so we can scrub the tub?

Is this all there is?

A messy house = a good mom, and a clean house = a bad mom?

Can't we find a happy medium somewhere?

The truth is, I like my house clean.
OK, I love my house clean.
When my house is clean, my whole world feels peaceful, beautiful, and wonderful.
There is a sense of calm that I don't feel when there are toys strewn about, crumbs all over the floor, a dirty stove top, and dirty finger prints around every door way.
I have been this way since I was a very little girl, and loved cleaning my own room and those of my friends.
Does this mean that I have set sail on the course to waste my life and ruin the lives of my children?
I don't think so.

What it does mean, though, is that I strive to find balance in this area of my life nearly every day.
It means it is an area ripe for being challenged, and for those challenges to grow me as a person, a wife, and a mother.
It means some days I go into the laundry room and I kick the washer because I am so sick and tired of never, ever, getting caught up with the house work.
It means that some days I leave the house for a day of adventure with the kids, and I dread coming home to the disaster we left behind.
And I count it a victory that we left, rather than stay home to get caught up on the housework.
It means I don't let the desire for a clean house rule me, but I also don't pretend it's not there.

So I teach my kids the importance of putting things back in their place.
I teach them to wipe out the sink after they brush their teeth.
I teach them to put away their own laundry, and I don't worry so much that their drawers are a mess because #1, I can't see the mess when the drawers are closed, and # 2, they need to learn how to put their laundry away.
I tell them not to put their hands on the walls when they've been outside playing all day beacause their hands are filthy.
And then I point out the dirty handprints they just made, and have them wipe them off.
I can't do this alone.
Even when Aaron folds laundry nearly every night, and does the dishes when I say, "I'm too tired.  Just leave them for the morning."
Even then, I need more help.
They need to help.
Because, I like a clean house, I don't have a house keeper, and there are 6 of us living here.
But most of all, it's not helping them any if I try to do this all by myself.

Still.
I forget that sometimes.
Like today.
When I was in the living room doing school with the big boys and Lilly and Davy were in the kitchen having a tea party.

To me that meant a pretend tea party, with Lilly's small tea set.

This is what it meant to Lilly.

It meant she made all kinds of crumb making snacks for her and David to munch on, and step on, and spread throughout the house.
It means they emptied a couple drawers of everything to find other tea set pieces when she couldn't find her own.
It meant they played happily and peacefully while the boys and I read, and did math.
They had a blast.
But when I walked into that kitchen, my initial response was, "Lillian Catherine!  What did you do in here?"
And I was bummed out, and overwhelmed, and I wanted to kick the washer.

But then I looked at David.
And he was so cute and smiley that I had to take a picture.
I took a couple deep breaths.
I went outside to find Lilly, and nicely asked her to come in and clean the kitchen floor up.
She happily complied, and then showed David how to pick everything up and put it away.
He was pleased as punch to help.
And she was pleased as punch to show him how.
When they were done, she turned to me with a big smile, "Mommy!  Can you believe how fast we cleaned that up?  Davy is learning how to be a good helper, isn't he?"

That's when the truth of that annoying saying hit me.
If I had just cleaned the mess up myself, muttering under my breath and slamming cabinets along the way, it would have been a total waste.
Instead, Lilly and Davy experienced the joy of helping and being useful.
They practiced responsibility.
And I felt a real weight lift off my shoulders when I saw the mess in my kitchen get cleaned up, even just a little bit.
It was a pretty sweet moment.

I'm not saying that I always respond this way.
There are plenty of muttering under the breath moments.
Just ask my kids.
I'm sure they'll grow up with plenty of stories about mom and her crazy, house cleaning rampages.
But I also hope they'll remember these other moments.
The moments when I gather them in my arms, and squeeze them, and say, "thank you for being such good helpers.  You make my whole world brighter.  I love you."

All day long I am given the opportunity to choose my attitude, choose my perspective, and choose my response.
Here is what I'm aiming for: this and this.
And to get those dishes done.

From one clean loving mama to all the others I know are out there--you aren't alone.
Love from,
Greta

Anatomy of a Bath--When the Children Are About

I ran my very first race today.

It was a 10K.

I am pretty stoked about the whole thing.

But more on that later.

After the race, there were 2 baseball games to watch, a house to tidy up, lunches to make, a baby to put down for a nap, and race pictures to look for online.

My legs, and especially knees, were sore, sore, sore!

The new Sunset magazine had just arrived in the mail.

Davy was asleep.

The big kids were all happily playing amongst themselves.

It seemed like the perfect time for a bath.

I love baths.
Don't you?
My mom passed on some wonderful things to my siblings and I.
Because of her, we are all readers.
We all cook and love good, real  food. (Except that my sister has been known to eat Hamburger Helper and like it.  We don't know what that is about)
She also passed on the appreciation of a good soak in the tub.
Growing up, I can remember her reading in the tub.
As soon as I could read in the tub, I did too.
My younger brother used to do his homework in the tub.
And for the 8 years that Aaron and I lived in our 100 year old beach bungalow, we only too baths.
Our house was so old it didn't have a shower.
That was best bathtub ever.
It was so big that when my 3 year old nephew came over the first time he said, "wow!  You have a pool in your bathroom!"
I loved soaking for a long time in that tub every day.

But I don't take baths very often anymore.
Especially not in the middle of the afternoon.
But today was a special occasion.
I made myself a cup of tea, got my magazine, told the big kids I'd be in the tub, and to be quiet because if they woke up their baby brother they'd be dead meat.
And then I went in to have a bath.

Here's what happened.
I pull back the shower curtain.
I immediately wish I had cleaned the tub the day before when I cleaned the rest of the bathroom.
Lesson learned on doing only half the job.
I pour my bath, step in, and sink into the hotness.
As soon as I am submerged, David wakes up.
I get out.
I dry off.
I sit on the couch, in a towel, and hold David for 10 minutes, because he always wants to be cuddled after he wakes up from his nap.
He finally feels like getting down, and runs off to play.
I get back in the tub.
My tea is cold.
My bath is cold.
I run more hot water to warm it up, and think, "forget about the tea."
David comes in and says, "bath, bath, bath, bath, bath, bath, bath," at least 20 times, and tries to get in the tub.
I finally get him to leave by telling him he can play with his bath toys in his bedroom.
Lilly walks in. 
"I want a girl Lego head but James has the only one, and he won't give it to me."
James yells from the living room, "Moooooom, she has more girl heads in her Lego box, she just doesn't want to go out to the Lego studio to get them.  And I already made this Lego girl for the set I am building."
Me to Lilly, "go outside to the Lego studio and find a girl head from your box."
Lilly walks out.
William walks in, "Mom, do you know where the instructions are for my new Lego set?"
Me, "I don't know.  Where did you use them last?"
William, "oh yeah...I think they're on the kitchen table."
William walks out.
Davy walks in with a box of graham crackers.
He hands me the box and says, "ma?"
I open the box, give him a cracker, give him the box, and tell him to put it back in the kitchen.
Davy walks out.
William walks back in.
"I found it, Mom.  I have to pee."
William pees.
William washes his hands and leaves.
James walks in. 
"Hey Mom, where's Dad?"
Me, "at the gym.  What do you need?"
James, "it's just that I want to build a really huge Lego set, but I want to build it with Dad.  And I don't know where all the pieces are that I need."
Me, "well, if you guys would just put the pieces back where they belong instead of leaving them all over the ground, you might be able to find them more easily.  But I'll help you look for them when I get done with my bath."
James walks out.
Lilly walks in.
"Mom, can I have an egg?"
Me, "after I get out of the tub."
Lilly walks out.
I pick up my magazine and read the advertisement on the first page.
David screams.
I yell, "what's wrong with David?"
James yells back, "he just wants the Lego pieces that are too small for him to have."
I scan the table of contents.
David walks in.
He throws his boat into the bath, which splashes my magazine and my glasses.
I say, "no David!  This is Mommy's bath!"
He walks out.
I take off my glasses, put down my magazine, and get out of the tub.
And that is why I don't take baths in the middle of the day.

Hope your Sunday is more relaxing than my bath was!
Love from,
Greta

PS. And in case you want to comment about all the things I could do to make sure I don't have so many interruptions, I'll just answer them for you ahead of time.
1. Yes, they could have watched something on tv, but they had already reached their weekend tv viewing limit and I am trying very hard to stick to the limits we created.
2. Yes, I could lock the door, but they would still come to the door and ask me stuff in loud voices.  Also, I don't like being in the bath with the door locked when David is awake.  I feel like I am at least kind of keeping an eye on him if he can wander in and out of the bathroom. I know, slacker mom.
3.  Yes, I could say, "don't come in here unless there is fire, blood, or poop."
But then someone would have to come in and poop and that is a total bummer when I am trying to take a bath.
4.  Yes, I can accept that this the stage of motherhood I am in right now, and I can laugh about it, and write it down so I will remember it many years later when my kids are not coming in to have discussions with me about Legos as I lay in the tub, drinking a cup of cold tea, and trying to read a magazine.

Practically Perfect In Every Way--Our Palm Springs Weekend

2 weekends ago Aaron and I escaped to Palm Springs.

When you have 4 kids, getting a weekend away requires more than a little bit of planning.

It took 2 sets of grandparents, an aunt and uncle, another aunt, and a dear friend to get all the kids taken care of for the weekend.

In the week leading up to our getaway, my mom fell and had to get her finger stitched up and a split in her chin glued together, my mother-in-law developed a terrible case of bursitis, my sister and brother in law were expecting 3 visitors and a dog to spend the weekend with them in their already crowded house, yet they all still said, "yes!  drop off the kids."

And then Davy got a high fever, a terrible sore throat, and wouldn't sleep at night.

It seemed the stars were not aligned in our favor.

He was a little better by Friday, so we decided to go for it.

(I never would have done that with the 1st kid)

Leaving much later than originally planned, we headed out.

At the last minute, Aaron decided we really had to drive the Falcon to Palm Springs, so we squeezed the whole fam in the wagon, and dropped the kids off one by one.

Driving in the Falcon always attracts a lot of attention.
But when it is loaded with 4 kids and a bunch of vintage suitcases in the back, we attracted a LOT of attention.
All told, we spent over 2 hours in the car, just dropping the kids off at their various destinations.

I was still pretty worried about leaving Davy, but he turned into a different kid the moment he saw my Dad, his best friend.
He squealed and laughed and played, and was happy as a clam.
My parents assured us everyone would be fine, and shooed us off with instructions to come back as late as we wanted on Sunday.
With a deep sigh of relief, we were on the road!
Maybe it is just me (but I pretty sure it is a universal Mom thing) but I find it so hard to let go of the guilt whenever I leave my kids behind.
And I don't mean I feel guilty about leaving my kids.
I know they are fine, and that it is good for us all to have a break from one another.
I mean the guilt I feel about everyone who is watching the kids, that Davy might keep my parents up all night, that Lilly will fight with her cousins, that the boys will ask for too many snacks, and all sorts of other ridiculous scenarios I create in my head.
It took the entire drive for me to really relax.
The moment we pulled off the freeway and Mt. San Jacinto loomed over us, the light from the full moon hit the mountain and lit up all the snow.
"Oh look!" I cried.  "It's so beautiful!  It's magical!"
And it was.
It felt like that moment happened just for me--a reminder that we were really there, somewhere so different from home and our everyday life, and that I should soak it all in, and enjoy my time with my best friend.
So we did.
.........................................................................................................................................................
We rolled into Palm Springs at 9 pm and ate dinner at a restaurant called Birba.
Not only was the food fantastic, but the people watching was extraordinary.
It was Moderism Week in Palm Springs (the reason we were there) and that night there had been all sorts of fancy parties where people dressed up in their mid century best, and had cocktails in places like Frank Sinatra's house.
For reals.
How cool is that?
I think Aaron was in heaven looking at everyone dressed up in fabulous plaid jackets and gorgeous, full skirted dresses, looking like they walked right out of 1962.
It was a fun night.

The next morning dawned sunny, clear, and Palm Springs beautiful.
I was so glad Aaron chose to drive the Falcon.
It was the perfect way to get around PS, and she looked right at home amid all the mid century architecture.

Seriously, isn't she just the cutest?

We went out for coffee and breakfast and then headed out of town for a hike.

Since we always visit Palm Springs in the summer, we never get to see the mountains covered with snow.

It is a really beautiful sight.

This was our first hike in PS.
Summer temps aren't conducive to hiking, so we never get to do it.
Aaron dressed for the occasion in an ascot, and a sweater tossed jauntily across his shoulders.
He spurns modern day hiking gear, and things like cargo pocketed hiking shorts.
His response to my,"That's what you're wearing to go hiking?": "What would Cary Grant wear if he was hiking?"
I love this guy of mine--he makes me laugh.

We hiked 4 miles along an amazing palm oasis in the middle of the desert.
It was astonishingly beautiful and one of the most favorite hikes I have ever done.
I'll tell you all about it in my next post.

We did a lot of looking at gorgeous vintage goods, but not a lot of buying.
We have enough vintage stuff now that things have to be a great price in order for us to add to our collection.
Or it must be something we don't have and is on the list.
We didn't get anything, but it was awfully fun to look.

On Saturday we spent the afternoon at the vintage trailer show that was part of Modernism Week.
It was so much fun.
Just look at this little beauty.
We got to walk inside all of them, talk to their owners, and dream of the day when we'll be sitting inside one of our very own.
It was fun to be around a whole bunch of people who geek out over the same things we do.
There will be lots more pics of my favorite trailers over at Picnics in the Park.
Be sure to check it out!

I even had a celebrity sighting at the trailer show.
Charles Pheonix!
He was really nice, admired Aaron's ascot, and was super excited that we lived in one of So Cal's original 50s suburban communities.
We speak the same language.
I love Charles!

But you know what the best part of the day was?
Just cruising around with my man.
He was in his element amidst all that mid century coolness.
We laughed a lot, held hands, sat close on the bench seat in the Falcon, and had entire conversations without being interrupted once.
It was glorious.

Sunday morning dawned clear, windy, and cold, (for us) but still sunny.
We admired the pool from inside the warm house.
It's pretty wonderful to have generous friends who let you stay at their Palm Springs house because otherwise you could never afford to visit Palm Springs in the high season.
Thanks you guys!
We even had a view of the snowy mountains from the breakfast table.

After a visit to a vintage garage sale, and coming very close to purchasing a 1962 Shasta trailer, we went for another hike.
This one was the beginning of the Cactus to Clouds hike, and it was 1.5 miles of straight up.

It's an 850 elevation gain in only a mile and a half.
If you go the whole way, it's something like climbing 10,000 ft. (makes the 850 seem pretty lame, right?)
Doing that whole hike is now on my list of life goals.
It was a lot of scrambling over rocks, but the views were breathtaking.

And then, breakfast at my favorite spot.

The rest of the day was spent tooling around PS, doing a tiny bit of thrifitng, (not much to find this time of year) and leaving as the sun was setting behind the mountain.

This was the first time we'd been away for a night since my birthday, last August.
And it was the first time we'd been away for more than 1 night in probably 3 years--maybe more.

As hard as it is to make it all come together, getting in the time together away from our kids is really important to keeping our relationship healthy and strong.

Also, it is a lot of fun!

Thanks to all the fine people who made this trip possible.
We owe you big time.

Palm Springs, we love you!

Love from,

Greta

Sick Day

After 2 months of seemingly endless sickness in this house, I've finally succumbed.

I went to bed last night having had sneezed a few sneezes, and blown my nose a few times, and was confident I'd wake up sick.

I did.

Being up from 2:30-4:30 am with a hungry and playful Davy didn't help.

It wasn't bad sick, but my head was stuffy and achy, my throat sore, and my body tired.

I declared a sick day.

I never take sick days.

Seriously.

I have thrown my back out and crawled around the house with a newborn in my arms, because I don't take sick days.

Literally crawling.

With a newborn.

Not smart, but I tend to not ask for help when I need it, or take care of myself when I need to.

I'm trying to be better about that.

Thus, I did this today.

And you know what, it was marvelous.
Knowing the week ahead wouldn't allow for much sick or rest time, I knew today was the day.
Rest is one thing I do not get enough of, (who does) and it is the one thing that I knew would help me feel better the fastest.
So I rested.

Aaron took all the kids out for the morning and I watched the final episode of Downton Abbey season 3.
Lame.
And then I slept for a long time.
After they all returned, Davy napped, the kids played quietly and nicely, and I stayed on the couch, and read all the issues of Bon Appetite that I haven't been able to read in months.
Side note: 4, 6 and 8 are marvelous ages.  All can play unassisted, make snacks unassisted, eat unassisted, use the bathroom unassisted, and allow Mommy to lay on the couch for hours, and not get up cause she is sick.  Someday Davy will be 4.  And I'll miss his babyhood, but I realized today there are some things to look forward to.

I also spent more time on Pinterest today than I ever have in my life.
It was fun.
It did confirm my suspicion that Pinterest is a gigantic time suck.
Because we all know that none of us are ever going to make all those recipes, crafts, or buy those outfits.
Still, I didn't feel guilty about it because I was having a sick day.
(you can find my boards here)

I did pin some good juice recipes.
I found one that is supposed to help with a cold.
I made it right away.
Because I am slightly obsessed with juicing.
2 carrots, 6 kale leaves, 1/2 a lemon, a knob of ginger, 1 clove garlic, and a pinch of cayenne pepper.
Yowsa!
Did that ever clear my sinuses!
The carrots did mellow out the other stuff, so it really wasn't that bad--it just had a kick.
Would you believe me if I told you my nose is no longer running and my headache went away?
(but my throat is still sore and my body achy and tired)
I am really in love with juicing.
My friend warned me of turning into this.
The video quality is poor, and Jim Carey annoys me after a very short amount of time, but this still made me laugh.  
Promise me you'll cut me off when I start juicing dirt.

I even managed to get some blogging done.
I edited the pictures and blogged about our Palm Springs trip last weekend: two hikes, a vintage trailer show, and some other fun stuff.
Check back in this week--you'll find new posts up on both my blogs!
Wonder of wonders.

I didn't manage to get the bathroom cleaned today, but the beds were made, floors swept, dishes done, and the house isn't a total wreck.
It might have been the best sick day ever.
I'm tempted to have one every month--sick or not.
Now I need to go to bed or I'll end up staying up too late like I do every night and all this resting today will go to waste.
Come back soon to read all about beautiful Palm Springs!
Love from,
Greta

When You Have to Make Some Happy

This morning I walked outside and picked 5 oranges from our tree.
I came back in, washed them, pulled out carrots and greens from the fridge, a cucumber, and a lemon.
I piled it all on the counter and put together the parts of my juicer.
It requires a little elbow grease and patience.
I had to peel the oranges, get a knife out to trim the carrots, and cut the lemon.
Meanwhile, there were eggs boiling on the stove, and toast toasting on the griddle.
And, my 2 littlest people had pulled up chairs because they are still enthralled with our new juicer.
They were in my way.

I had to reach around them, pull the knife out of Davy's hands, remind him not to touch the juicer, make them get down while I poured the boiling water from the eggs into the sink, I had stand just right so they could see the juice pour out of the juicer.
And to be quite honest, I was a little annoyed by their presence.
I wasn't in the best mood.

Despite a great start, yesterday grew difficult and ended badly.
None of it was anything extraordinarily bad-- just the kind of things that make a day less enjoyable, and then make it easier to indulge in a bad attitude.
Do you find that the little problems are more often the ones that bring you down?
When I find myself facing something truly difficult or big, I call upon God, friends, and the remembrance of comfort in hard times past.
But these little things I try to get through on my own, wallowing for a while, and then pressing on, and not really growing, or learning, or changing from them.

I stepped back from the juicer to make everyone's eggs, and when I was done, I took a minute and I looked at the two of them.
The sun shone through the windows, lighting up my kitchen like it does every morning.
I love that.
And I loved the way the two of them were so thrilled to watch me push oranges and kale down the mouth of the juicer until the muddy juice poured out the bottom.
I can learn from them.

There are a lot of little annoyances in my life.
But there are also a lot of little joys.
I remembered this quote and how much it resonated with me the first time I read it.
"The art of being happy lies in the power of extracting happiness from common things."
My life is pretty full of common things.
Dirty dishes, dirty diapers, dirty laundry.
Crumbs to be swept, meals to be made, manners to teach.
At times I want to run away.
I just grow weary with the never-endingness of it all.
Do you?
But then there is that moment when I step back and I choose to look at the beautiful things that make up my world: old books, coffee, flowers on the table, blossoms on my peach tree, kids sprawled on the floor drawing, my baby boy giving me sticky kisses, sunrises, sunsets, and many more.
And I remember it is not my circumstances that make me happy.
It is what I choose to do with them.
It is not the things I have, or don't have, that make me happy.
It is the people who inhabit my life, and the way we live life together that make me happy.
Sometimes, in the midst of life's little problems, it is hard for me to remember these things.

I am grateful to live with 4 little people who find such excitement and joy in the smallest, most common thing, and therefore make it easier to remember.
Because I'll need help remembering.
The baby is still going to knock carrot pulp all over the floor, and the 4 year old is going to spill her juice, and the moment I sit down to eat the 6 year old is going to say, "I'm still hungry, Mom.", and I still have to take everyone to Pep Boys to charge the car battery that died last night, and the windows are still covered with snot and dirty finger prints.
My life is still happening.
I'll have lots of opportunities to seek joy today.
And this is the mindset I want to have, regardless of what comes my way:
"This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!" (Psalm 118:24)

Wishing you joy today.
Love from,
Greta