Icebergs, iPods & Creamsicle Light OR How to Banish Those Stinky Brat Blues

Being grateful is a bit of an art. It takes practice..sure, but I have also noticed that some folks have a natural aptitude for it...as for me...I do it with considerably less panache. It has come easier to me since having my babies, as most moms will tell you. Any mention of sick babies, starving kids or abused teens has us running for our own babies and giving them bone-crushing hugs and sloppy kisses.


Still, I have to admit, that I can be slow to see the glory of the place I stand in, and far too fast to "lack to marvel". This week in particular I was having a righteous case of the "are you kidding me's". Really...snow again? REALLLLLYYYYY!!!! I mean sure, it's okay to look ahead to the magnificence of spring, but to throw a foot stomping (not that you could hear them stomping because they were still wrapped in wool socks) fit was a bit much, yes? But God decided to handle me like He always does...by being REALLLYYYY obvious...because honestly, I can be crazy dense.

So...I woke this morning feeling royally miffed as my blanket-warmed feet hit the cold floor. I schlepped my way to the kitchen, with my eyes obstinately squeezed shut, to pack my husband's lunch. I'm sure I looked like a mole as I rooted around in the fridge for anything that even remotely had the shape of ham and bread (poor hubby...I still don't know exactly what he ate for lunch that day). I opened the kitchen curtains before I grudgingly sat to read and pray. AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW?....There...laid out before me was an absolute banquet of beautiful...

The sun was so bright my eyes watered and the sky was so hard and cold and brittlely blue that I just knew had to put on boots and stand under it. I ran to the office and grabbed my camera and threw on my coat as I slipped out the back door...literally. Overnight, our whole yard had been turned into an icy wonderland. I felt my breath push out of me and fall right to the ground around my feet. Every surface was smooth with ice and the trees were dressed in white swags with frosty trinkets and charms. Sliding down the hill, I started clicking my camera; driven by an anxious feeling that I just had to capture it all. I pushed the button again and again until my fingers were too stiff.

When I looked back toward the house, I saw my boys' faces smashed against the kitchen windows. I crunched my way back to the house, and the very clear vision of myself this summer fault-finding with Michigan's dreaded heat and humidity had me laughing out loud. Yep, I got it (I mean even I have my limits of denseness ): Find the joy in every moment. The rest of the day had me wringing every minute of extraordinary out of it.

As evening comes now, the boys are all doing their nighttime things: my oldest is playing guitar hero (dreaming of his own band someday) and my middle guy is watching AFV (which is ALWAYS on somewhere in the world) and giggling at the babies and pratfalls (unless someone gets hurt and then I hear him say "hey, that's not funny"...which I love about him). My youngest has already been tucked into bed (protesting the whole way that he isn't sleepy), but is breathing evenly and completely silent by the time my foot hits the bottom stair.

The shadows are falling now as I swivel in my office chair and I turn my face toward the creamsicle light and wait for the last of it to melt down. I close my eyes so tightly that I see turquoise flashes on the backs of my lids like my own personal light show. I listen to Asia "Heat of the Moment" on my iPod with old school walk-man headphones (caught indefinitely between 1989 & 2011 and loving every minute of it ) and I shut out the sounds of the house behind me... the doggies, the dishwasher and the extra spin cycle of the washing machine. I can feel the dimness coming and my smile fades with the light...like the setting sun controls the corners of my mouth. But before the sun sets for good it flares one more time into brightness and my mouth curls up again and I delight in the idea that there's always something to be joyful about if I'd only just open my eyes a little wider.

ps...no surprise here, but our pupper got the right idea long before me... :)