observation

today we arrived in utah after a day in the car. travel was about what i expected with three little boys in the back. my middle child was told that we were going to see snow on this trip, which meant, to him, that we would see snow today. but it was a balmy 60 degrees in beaver when we arrived this evening, and my poor son was disappointed. no snow on the ground. i felt for him. i thought we were going to hear about it for the rest of the night, at least, if not the rest of the trip. and then, we got back to our hotel after dinner, and there was a little patch of snow behind the hotel, protected from the sun just long enough for my little boy to run through it seven times before deciding it was too cold to stay outside in the wind (he was in shorts and a T-shirt).

he was perfectly happy with that little patch as the fulfillment of the promise of snow.

never mind the fact that we had driven eight hours to get to that little patch of snow. to him, economy of time is completely irrelevant. he has no concept of opportunity cost or whether the payoff is worth his effort. he just enjoyed running through the snow that he was promised he would see on this trip.

sometimes i wish i were more like that. how often do i come up with completely unrealistic notions of what something will be like and then totally miss whatever joy i could have been experiencing because it's just a little patch of snow in the shadow of a hotel in beaver, utah? i was picturing major snowdrifts! hot chocolate! scarves and snow boots! hours of enjoyment! a sleigh ride a la laura ingalls wilder! i can't possibly be satisfied with this mockery of my romanticized vision! but maybe half the fun of getting there is letting reality sink in and laughing at my romanticized vision. it is april, after all. how much snow did you expect?

little hugs

my dad told me that right now, in my life, when my days are full of cleaning up puddles and wiping noses and changing diapers and buckling seatbelts and velcroing shoes and endless, endless laundry, that these are the "good old days." i am finding that he is absolutely right. one night recently, my family and i were sitting on the couch in front of the TV while one of the boys was doing a silly walk and laughing hysterically at himself. i was leaning against my husband, laughing at what was going on, but at the same time i had a deeper understanding that life doesn't really get any better than this. i almost felt like the scene took on a glow for a minute, and i could see that even though it was a very simple thing happening, i needed to remember this.

i'm sure my sons won't remember that particular moment in time when they get older, and this is only one of many moments that are common, everyday happenings, but are etched with the added significance of demonstrating just how sweet life can be as i watched my kids be kids and felt that i was indeed doing everything i could for them, and getting the reward of knowing that they are happy and healthy and that we all are blessed beyond imagining.

i believe this moment, and others like it, were "hugs from the Lord," as my uncle tom called them. a little assurance that He knows me, my struggles, my triumphs, and He is helping me to realize who i want to be and what i really want through moments like these: i want to be the best version of myself, and i want to be a good wife and mother, and raise good children who will be forces for good in the world. i believe that is my mission. and i think being able to look at my life right now with gratitude is probably an important part of that.