Quotes about Kindness

Life is Good: don't let anyone tell you otherwise!

Sorry to be vague, but to protect the identity of the innocent (and the guilty), I will say that...I had an experience this week that brought me to this notion:
Kindness and unkindness are both like boomerangs. Whatever you put out there, comes back to you.

I just can't wrap my brain around why some people choose to be snippy, rude, unkind, and mean instead of just being kind. Let me tell you, kindness is easier! It takes a whole lot more thought and energy to be unkind. And my guess is that it doesn't make you feel any better inside either.

And the biggest exclamation mark of all is that I am not talking about a situation involving my five-year old! Nope. I am referring to a(n) adult(s). It seems like such a waste of life. We only get so much breathing time, after all.

I was noodling over this thought when I scrolled down my Facebook news feed and saw this from Momastery:

I LOVE IT! It's true! If you are snarky on Facebook, rude in a text, short in an email, judgmental on Twitter or a whole host of other offenses, you...as Jeff Foxworthy might say... might (not) be kind. Or something like that! And like I said in this post, "Words come out quickly and there is no taking them back. When you put them out into the world, you have no control over what others will do with them. So you better be sure of every syllable." None of us are perfect. But I don't think it is aiming too high when we aim to be perfectly kind.

And then I remembered a couple of quotes I had saved to my pinterest boards. This one is great for not giving too much thought or attention to meanies:

 from withallourhearts.com

This one goes hand in hand with my boomerang idea...

from beyondyoga.com

And this. This is such a great mantra. Don't give awful people your power and don't let them harden your heart either...

I can't control other people's actions. And I certainly can't make sense of it when those actions come from a place of darkness. But I can choose my own "weapons" carefully. And I choose kindness. Every time.

Gratitude for Hope

Life is Good: we always have hope

 

Month of Gratitude, Day 30

Well, last night after the kiddos were all snug as a bug, I sat down at the computer to write my final "Month of Gratitude" post. It could have been an easy one... I'm grateful I don't have to write a post every day for an entire month starting tomorrow! ; ) Indeed, it has been a lovely exercise to write about my blessings and especially to focus on the little and simple things. However, trying to carve out time to write each day has not always been so simple. I've enjoyed the process...thinking and writing. I have loved the feedback from friends I know and new internet friends I have never met. It's been good for me to sit down and be quiet. It's been good for me to save some thoughts for my kids and share what is on my mind. But to be sure, this mama has a full load and so I breathe a sigh of relief at the idea of writing a post or two each week moving forward.

So as I said, last night, I sat down to write. It had been a good day and I was grateful. We had begun our Christmas celebrating. We had spent the morning downtown at Macy's. On their 8th floor, they have a "Day in the Life of an Elf" display that is really adorable. They have several scenes of animated elf dolls doing their daily tasks like making candy and other goodies.

We met a close friend and her kiddos that, like ours, are 2 and 5. It was fun to watch the kids delight in the magic.

They bounced around from scene to scene. Literally. The excitement took over their little bodies. It is no surprise that people call it the "most wonderful time of the year". These kids were reveling in it.

Later, we watched "Moose Crossing", the puppet show in an adjacent room on the eighth floor. It was cute and for four bucks a person, it was a real bargain. Our kids loved it. It was a mixture of real puppets...

shadow puppets...

and marionettes...

 After the show, the puppeteers brought out some of the puppets and let kids try them out. What an extra special treat. We were the last ones to leave, so we even got to peek at the back of the stage.

We came home to lobster bisque (yum!) and then set off to see Santa at a local photographer's studio. The kids got 15 minutes to talk with Santa about toys and the North Pole and anything else that was on their minds. And we got a cute picture for their memory boxes.

It was the most relaxing, enjoyable Santa visit of our five and a half years of Santa visits. Thank you! But if you are wondering why our little ones aren't sitting on Santa's lap, it's because the wee one is far too discerning for it! That is as close as he would get. And that was okay with us. He sat on a stool next to Santa and said, "Merry Christmas!" No tears. Success.

It was a good day. A very good day. A day full of fun and frolic and magic. And I was grateful.

Before I wrote my post, I decided to check my accounts. And when I did, I learned that a friend's father had passed away. Tears filled my eyes. My heart ached.

Allyson and I forged a friendship over conversation. Like my friend, Pip, Allyson is older than I am. I grew to adore her and admired her for many reasons (I wasn't a teenager yet, but she was one of the most real teenagers I had ever met, wise beyond her years, and just a really good-hearted friend) and I think I valued her friendship in a different way because, unlike the girls my age whom I had been friends with since we started school, I felt Allyson had really chosen to be my friend. We hadn't just always been friends, but rather, she picked me to be her friend. Even though I haven't seen her in a long time, our friendship was very special to me and I look back on those years with such warmth.

So I put my post on hold. I couldn't think about anything but Allyson and her family. I called my mom to tell her. She gasped. We felt the sadness together. I prayed. And prayed. And prayed again. I asked for comfort and peace for their family. I thought about Allyson's children. In a correspondence with her, I told her to hug them all tightly. I felt so glad that she had them to hug and hold on to.

I awakened this morning thinking about Allyson again. I thought about what a great day our family had together yesterday and all the while, hers was saying goodbye to her beloved father. Our hearts were bursting with enthusiasm, their hearts were breaking. And still, I began thinking about this being the first day of Advent and why we celebrate it--the anticipation of our celebration of Christ's birth. The Christ Child. The King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Prince of Peace. The little, tiny baby that brought hope to our world.

Hope.

This is what connects us. Each day, some of us will experience happiness and some, sadness. Others of us will be somewhere in the middle. But whatever spot we are within that, we all have hope. The hope that Christ's birth brought to the world. The message his birth gave to us all. A light unto our paths. The gift of love, the gift of hope.

Carl Sandberg said, “A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on.” It started with the greatest gift of all, our Savior, Jesus Christ. He lives in us. That hope lives in us.

So on this last post of Thanksgiving and on the first day of Advent, I am grateful for hope. In all its glory and innocence, its enthusiasm and kindness. And for the One who brought it into our world to us so that in our finest moments, we have gratitude and in our darkest moments, we have light.

Gratitude for Dad

Life is Good: my dad knows how to use a wrench!

Month of Gratitude, Day 29

Well, the big kid has a loose tooth. It was bound to happen. As much as I am trying to get him to stop growing up, he just keeps doing it. I told him he should stop eating such nutritious foods. He told me that I am the one who serves them and that it is his job to keep growing. It's hard to argue with that.

But in all seriousness, it is an exciting time in life. Oh, okay, when is it NOT an exciting time for us? We are blessed. Every day, we have a ritual where I try to pull out his tooth. It is getting there, but it may take a while because just when I start to make some progress and hear that "crunch" (you know, the tooth pulling away from the gums), the big kid tells me to stop and we should just "let the tooth come out on its own".

We have the tooth pillow ready. I bought these two adorable ones from a shop on Etsy last year. (I wanted to make sure I was ready when it happened!)

And so now, we wait...

This daily ritual of (kind of) teeth pulling has reminded me of my own tooth loss memories. I remember the excitement and the amazement at the magic of the Tooth Fairy. What an innocent, precious time childhood is. I never could understand how the tooth fairy got into my bed, grabbed my tooth in an envelope out from under my pillow, and left a dollar for me without my waking up! She is very quiet, that Tooth Fairy!

All of this tooth business has also reminded me of my dad. You see, when I was about eight, I lost one of my front teeth early in the day. I remember it was a Sunday and so we were home all day. No school to distract me. All I could think about was that tooth and the Tooth Fairy. I kept going into the bathroom and smiling, admiring my new look. Then I got the idea to compare what my smile looked like with and without my tooth.

So...

I sneaked into my parents' bedroom and got my newly lost tooth. The tooth that my mom had expressly told me to leave alone until it was time to put it under my pillow that night. The tooth that had been put into an envelope and sealed.

Well, now the tooth was unsealed and in my hand. I stood on my tip toes over the bathroom sink to look at my smile in front of the mirror. With the tooth and without. With the tooth and without. And then. Clunk.

Oops.

That "clunk" was the sound of my tooth falling into the sink and right down the drain. And then another sound...my crying. No. Wailing.

I ran to my mom and through my whining and wailing and drama, told her what had happened. And also pointed out that the Tooth Fairy would not come if that tooth wasn't under my pillow! She was not pleased. but I recall her remaining calm.

The good news was that I hadn't run the water in the sink, so the tooth was most likely at the bottom of the U-shape of the pipe. So she told my dad what had happened. And then she asked him to crawl under the sink, open the drain pipe up, and get my tooth back. I recall him being a little less calm about it. (He is the lively balance to her quiet, for sure!) I think he questioned her sanity or an equivalent of that. I am pretty sure he asked her a few times if she was serious. And then he went and got a wrench and climbed under that sink and...voila! got my tooth back.

The tooth quickly went back to an envelope where it remained sealed.

This story isn't really about a lost tooth. It's not about a silly kid and smile comparisons. It's not about an understanding mother. This story is about a daddy. A daddy who hated to see his daughter cry. A daddy who would have done anything for his daughter.

Today, I am grateful for my dad. I am grateful that he will drop anything to fish a tooth out of a pipe or just chat on the phone. I have always been a daddy's girl. Growing up, I loved watching my dad "working the crowd" when we would go out to dinner. The term, "social butterfly" was invented for him. I would watch him bounce from table to table, leaving people smiling and laughing.

My dad is a storyteller. His delivery is so good, most people are left wondering if the story was true or not. He's always up for fun and adventure. To my dismay, this adventure often involves his motorcycle! Oh, yes. If it were someone else's dad, I would think it was great, too.

Often, if you ask my dad how he's doing, he'll say, "If I were any better, I'd be twins!" Oh, dad. The world is not ready for two of you! Or rather, when God made you, he broke the mold!

My dad has a big personality and is a lot of fun to be around, but there is so much more to him. He is generous with all that he has. He is a champion of the underdog and can't help but offer help when he sees that someone needs it. He loves the Lord and everyone knows it. And he has the most sentimental, tender heart. He's also the epitome of a public servant and community leader--he's served his community in myriad ways, on committees and boards and more, over the past 50+ years.

My dad was the first person to encourage me to be a writer. He noticed something in me that no one else had when I let him read a letter to the editor of our little, local newspaper that I had written. And there is nothing that I have wanted to do that he has ever doubted.

Today, I'm grateful to be born to a dad who loved family time, whether that was on a boat or in a pool. I'm grateful for a father who passed on a love of people and a love of laughter to me. I'm thankful for my dad's twinkling blue eyes and wide grin. I am grateful for a father who is interested in anything that interests me. A dad who has never met a stranger, makes friends with people of all walks of life, and walks around with his heart wide-open.

Today, every day, dad, I am so grateful for your presence in my life and proud to be your daughter. I know people who cannot say those things about their parent and I am so glad for our relationship and the love we share for one another. 

Thanksgiving for Thanksgiving

Life is Good: there is so much to be thankful for!

 

Month of Gratitude, Day 28

Happy Thanksgiving! This post is a day late, but that doesn't diminish my gratitude. It was a full day, no pun intended.

We had an easy morning...my three boys played together while I baked a turkey breast (white meat only, please!), an apple crumble pie (new fave...I will post the recipe asap!), and some appetizers for our dinner with friends (simple stuff--artichoke dip, guacamole, crudites gathered together in the shape of a turkey, of course).

Then, we were off to the ER at Children's Hospital. Wait, put on the brakes. Nothing was wrong. In fact, everything is great. We are so grateful to the staff at Minneapolis Children's Hospital. When the big kid was two, he had his first infection ever. Unfortunately, it resulted in a life-threatening bout with croup and a secondary infection. With their proactive treatment and exceptional knowledge, the staff at Children's saved his life. So when we have been in town on Thanksgiving, we have dropped off snacks & goodies and a thank you note in the ICU where he was treated.

We're very fortunate that we have only been in the ICU once and it was a short stint. Now, the big kid has a tendency towards croup and when he gets it, it is not the ordinary scary kind, but a super scary kind. So a couple of times a year, we have landed in the ER at Children's Hospital in need of help. So this year, we decided to drop off a goody bag to the ER staff who, instead of celebrating the holiday with their friends & family, were there taking care of kids, saving lives, giving families another reason to be grateful. It meant a lot to the big kid. He loved "giving stuff to people who help us. It feels so good inside."

And hearing him say that made me feel good inside. We are working hard to raise kind, loving, responsible, generous, grateful little people. Hearing that makes me think we might be on the right track...

In the car on the way home, the big kid asked about the kids who were in the hospital on Thanksgiving. He asked if we could pray for them. So we did. But not without tears (mine). Not without tears for those kids and their families. Those kids who may or may not leave the hospital healthy. And tears for the ones who do leave the hospital to resume their lives, like our big kid. And tears for the memory. Tears for that little two-year old of ours and the faint voice and the limp body, for the mama I was, arms wrapped tight around him in constant prayer. Tears for how long ago it feels in some ways and how recent it feels, too. Tears for all we have done and seen and accomplished and lived since then.

We got to watch the Jayhawks play basketball for a bit (Rock Chalk!) and then it was time to go over to our goddaughter's house for dinner with her family. We are so blessed to have friends to share the holiday with. A special shoutout to their families for sharing their holiday with us, too!

Check out the bird!

And the chef!

Our darling goddaughter and her lil sis provided the entertainment. Sorry for the blurry pic...there was a lot of dancing involved!

The award for having the most fun might have gone to our little one. He did a great job of keeping up with the big kids. The kiddos played and played and played. How can I harness some of that energy?!

 My friend, Laura, and I wrestled for the wishbone. (Not really.)

We are so very blessed. Wishing on a wishbone (does anybody have a tradition of doing that?) seems greedy. I am so grateful for the simple things and the extraordinary, too. We have them all. I am grateful for the relationships that keep me happy, peaceful, and everything in between--our little family of four, my parents, some wonderful extended family, a wide group of friends near and far. We had a lovely Thanksgiving, despite my missing being with my parents. Our friends loved us up and filled our bellies.

Every Thanksgiving, I remember a card that I sent to my grandparents. I wrote in it, "Happy Thanksgiving to two of my favorite turkeys!" They called me as soon as they got the card. I was living in Atlanta and I can still picture where I was standing as I spoke to them on the phone. My Grandma cackled and giggled with delight and my Granddad, attempting to sound stern and serious, said, "Now you listen here. Who's the turkey?" and then we all laughed and laughed. I miss them dearly. On holidays and every day. If you have a special turkey in your life, tell them. Okay, maybe don't call them a turkey, if they wouldn't find that funny. ; ) But today, if you have someone you love dearly or a friend that makes you feel special, tell them. You'll be thankful that you did!

Friends Who Fly

Life is Good: we have friendly skies

 

Month of Gratitude, Day Twenty-seven

 

Remember my post about friendships on Day 26? I received some lovely emails, facebook messages, texts, and even a phone call about that one. Thank you! I am so grateful when you take the time to read this little blog. And even more appreciative when you take time to write me about it.

My Day 27 gratitude is for another long-lasting friendship. It happens to be a long distance friendship, too. Today, I am grateful for friends who fly all the way from Brazil to see you.

About a month ago, my friend, Hobbes, came to visit us. We met in grad school in Atlanta. I went to a lovely school that welcomed a lot of foreign students. I was fortunate to meet and form friendships with people from Brazil, Lebanon, Denmark, Thailand, Portugal, and many other places. I loved hearing about their homes and what life was like for them there. And I just loved hearing them talk...the accents were divine!

My friend, Hobbes (we had lots of nicknames for her, but this was the one that sounded most like her Brazilian nickname, Robis) finished up with school and left to go back to Brazil, but through the magic of the internet, we have remained close. When she emailed to say that she was making a trip to the US, I was so excited. She planned to pop into Atlanta and then on to Chicago, where many of our friends have settled. That night, I told Grant that I would need to figure out a way to make a little trip to Chicago. ("A way" most likely meant asking my mom to come up to visit and help out with the little boys while I was gone for a couple of days.)

And then I got another email from Robis. She asked if it would be easier for her to come up to Minneapolis to see me since I have two little ones. Gosh, I have the most thoughtful friends. I told her that I would gladly fly to Chicago to see her, but that we would love to host her here, too. Later that day, she emailed me with her itinerary. She wouldn't be able to be here long, but we would make the most of our time.

And we did!

I picked her up bright and early from the airport and we drove to Patisserie 46 for some yummy pain de chocolat and espresso. While we were there, I ran through a list of things we could do that day and asked her what sounded best. Then she told me to, "Stop being so Susie!" and that she just wanted to hang out with me and meet my little boys. When someone tells me to "Stop being so 'Susie'" , I know that they really know me. Do you have friends like that? Friends that you haven't seen in a long time, friends who you only email and facebook with and yet, they are friends who know your personality so well? We had a good laugh about "being so Susie".

We dropped off her bags and drove over to our lake, Lake Harriet. I showed her the bandshell and boats bobbing in the water. We stopped to take a little walk and some pictures.

Our next stop was the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden across from the Walker Art Museum. A photo at the Spoonbridge & Cherry is a MN must!

                                                                     mytwincities.net


Then, we took a tour of downtown Minneapolis. It is pretty small for a major city. It is a series of one-way streets and on one, Robis was surprised to see the restaurant, Fogo de Chao ( a Brazilian steakhouse). And even more surprised when she heard the way I pronounce it! (I guess we Americans have it all wrong.)

I gave Hobbes a few choices for lunch (again, "Stop being so 'Susie'!") and we decided to be very American and go for hamburgers! I had heard about this place downtown that was supposed to have great burgers, so away we went.

Band Box Diner was a hit. A hole-in-the-wall? Yes. Tiiiiiiiiny? Yes. Delish burgers? Yes. 

And of course, my little one won't look at the camera. He's got that whole "mind of his own" thing covered.

We raced home to meet the big kid at the bus stop. Hobbes asked if it was a "real bus... you know, yellow and everything?" Yes, a real, big, yellow school bus. She loved it. She told me how our neighborhood looked exactly like what she thought an American neighborhood should look like. The yellow school bus was the icing on the cake. We also talked about how many people were walking dogs in our neighborhood and how Americans treat pets like family members rather than animals. I find conversations about culture so fascinating.

We got the big kid a snack and then pulled out the globe to show him Hobbes' home in Brazil.

Being "so Susie", I had a whole list of places we should go next. I wanted to show her Minnehaha Falls--the pergolas, Longfellow gardens. Or go to the MN Arboretum or the Weisman Art Museum. But she wanted to stay at our house and hang out. She wanted to just be together. She wanted to play with my kids and chat and laugh and enjoy being in the same room together. And that is exactly what we did. It was relaxed and lovely. We were exactly where we needed to be--together.

But, we did have to go out for dinner! Grant stayed home with the kiddos and we did our version of a Girl's Night Out---sushi at Seven. We sat up on the roof. It was a lovely night with great weather, food, and conversation. We talked about careers and kids. We talked about our days in grad school including a potluck dinner we had where everyone brought a dish unique to their country of origin. I was talked into bringing hot dogs. I do not know how that happened! It would never happen now, I will tell you!

It was a lovely (too short) visit and I was so grateful that Hobbes took the time to come up to see us. My kids adored her. Adored! And I was reminded that years can separate our physical selves, but our hearts stay connected no matter how many miles separate us or time passes. Robis was still full of love and bursting with joy and she still understood that I have to be "so Susie!"

I am so grateful for this friendship. For this memory. For the technology to keep in touch with friends and family near and far. For friends who make the extra effort, whether that is in person or otherwise.

And for photos like this. The big kid showing off his new art of "photobombing". Quite possibly the best photo of the trip...

Gratitude for Friendship

Life is Good: Real Friendships Endure

Month of Gratitude, Day 26

For the past four years, one of my dearest friends has been sailing around the world with her husband and two boys. It sounds amazing, right? And it was. They sampled special places and met interesting people. They made memories that all four of them will carry in their hearts and minds forever. For. Ever. But she will be the first to tell you that it wasn't glamorous. It wasn't neat and tidy. It was hard.work. I mean, hard. work.

Besides the work that it takes to keep a boat working and sailing, throw in days--sometimes weeks--at a time without internet (gasp!) which meant no email (what!?!) and no...wait for it...facebook (unfathomable!). And of course, since they were away from the U.S., phone calls were an infrequent luxury. So she and I went quite some time without speaking. I mean, hearing each other's voices. We were able to keep in touch by email and facebook messaging, which often felt like a (faceless) conversation when we caught each other online at the same time---a real treat.  And I was so grateful for those short minutes of connection. Our correspondence was bite-sized. We kept things concise, with the important stuff being upfront. We never "buried the lead".

So when she announced that they had begun their way back home to the U.S., I began to wonder how many "catch up calls" it would take us to...well, catch up! I was so excited to hear her retell their trip--year by year? place by place? How had living on a boat changed her boys? How did the trip affect her marriage? Or did it? What was the single most important moment of the trip? Or was there one? And so many more questions. I had received snipits of answers to these questions already, but surely there was so much more to tell.

I looked back on my last four years and pondered how full they had been. When she left, I had a 1 1/2 year old. Now, I had a five and two-year old. Many ups, a few downs. My family, my life had changed by leaps and bounds. I had gone here and there. I had done this and that. While mine might not have felt as exciting, I, too, had many stories to share.

I was excited (and grateful) to hear that Pip, as I lovingly refer to her, and her family had arrived safely on the East Coast (and relieved--- in all honesty, was a dangerous trip!). And I was excitedly (but patiently) awaiting our first phone call. Gosh, how would we begin this first "catch up call"?

Well, as it turns out, we started in the middle.

A couple of days after their arrival, Pip called me. There was no chit chat or small talk. There was no "how are you?" or "what are you up to today?" She needed to talk about something, so she called and when I answered hello, she dove right in.

So we talked and we gasped and we laughed. And we did all of those things again. And again. And at the end of our conversation, she apologized for just jumping right into a conversation instead of "catching up" first. But there was no need for an apology. And she knew that, too. I was honored that she had thought of me to call. It seems to me that "starting in the middle" is one of the most honest signs of a true friendship that you can find. When you have a friend that you can call at all hours of the day or night, a friend that you know will drop everything for you, a friend who will try to understand when there is no way anyone could understand, a friend with whom you can "start in the middle"...you must cherish that.

I've always been naive about people. I'm idealistic. I'm an open book. And I walk around with my heart wide-open, too. So when I meet someone and have a great conversation, discover similar interests, I consider them a friend. And I assume that we'll both put something into the friendship and we will be friends for a lifetime. I know, it sounds like a four-year old's view of friendship, doesn't it? That's what I thought as I typed that. I guess it is just the result of my personality. Or the place from which I begin. I don't just want to like everyone. I want to love everyone. There are worse personality flaws, right? (And believe me, I have those, too!)

In the past few years, I have discovered firsthand that not everyone else wants to like and love everyone. I have discovered that some "friends" would rather tear you down in order to build themselves up. These women feel the need to smear a reputation in order to create one of their own. Or they are eager and willing to believe what someone else makes up rather than trust their own experience of you. It's sad. To think that there are adults out there who still have the insecurity and competitive nature that you expect of someone in middle school, someone who hasn't matured and evolved yet. Or they use your "friendship" to take, take, take. And then they move on to the next person that they can take from. Or maybe they delight in casting (even when inaccurate or unfounded) judgements over you because it makes them feel better about their own faults and inadequacies or life, in general. This is not to say that I am not a good judge of character. I think I am and I have good instincts about people. However, I have this innate need to give people "one more chance" which often turns into one more chance times fifty. And I think really good people can make really bad choices. It is a slippery slope. Words come out quickly and there is no taking them back. When you put them out into the world, you have no control over what others will do with them. So you better be sure of every syllable.

Those little tidbits have kept my mind and heart at work way more than I should have let them. But I am a questioner. And a ponderer. I have a desperate need to understand before I can accept. And to be honest, I often let my "understanding" excuse people (which I know is wrong). But I've tried to use this all to let lessons be learned. To better define my own standards. To strengthen the person who I am and want to be. I think I've finally accepted that I need to keep a safe distance from people like that. It's a difficult task for me, though. Pulling back, only sharing a piece of myself, only dipping one toe in...it's just not me. And being true to myself is really important to me. For my own happiness. And as an example to my children. But I still find hope in the fact that while we do not all come from the same starting point, if willing, we all can end up at the same end place of love. I warned you...I'm a dreamer, an idealist, a sappy, sticky, hopeful! I'm also a Christian. And my faith teaches me that we are all flawed and we all deserve forgiveness as we have all received forgiveness from God.

I've decided to take my energy away from the people who baffle me and towards the dear friends who lift me up. I am grateful for so many great girlfriends. And I am so fortunate to have several long-standing, lasting, supportive friends. They are a mixture of personalities. Some live in MN, some live in different cities and they all have lots of different interests. Some are sassy and some are sweet. Some can finish my sentences and some think I am completely nutty! But the thing they have in common is full hearts. They are "at the drop of a hat" kind of girls. They are hug and cheer and squeal kind of souls. They are laugh with you, join right in, talk when you need it and listen when you need it kind of wonders. They are treasures. Absolute treasures.

So today, I am grateful for long-lasting friendships, like the one I share with my friend, Pip. For friendships that endure--the ones that endure time, trials, bad hairstyles, miles of separation, growing pains, husbands, kids, and more. For friendships that come from the starting place of love. For friends who don't compare, but celebrate. For friends who feel like family. And for friendships that are so close, so natural, so intuitive, that you can "start in the middle".

A Month filled with Gratitude

Life is Good: even when you're playing catch up!

Month of Gratitude, Day 24 and 25  

I really love this month of gratitude thing. It is easy for me to list a thousand things in my head that I am grateful for. Not so easy to take the time to sit down and write them out! Well, I guess it could be easy. I could have written Day 24's gratitude if I wanted to miss out on reading books with our kids. I could have written down Day 25's gratitude if I wanted to miss out on making a Lego creation (or twenty) with our big kid. Instead, I decided to live in the moment and write about it later!

Day 24

I love coffee. There. I said it. I love the taste of coffee…be it in candy, ice cream, in a cappuccino or just with cream and sugar. I. Love. Coffee.

I love coffee so much that often I discover at 6PM that I haven’t had anything but coffee to drink all day. I know, I know! This is bad news. So about 5 or 6 months ago, I began a campaign to beat the habit. I have whittled my addiction down to either one or two cups of decaf a day. After all, I have my enthusiasm to keep me going! ; )

But decaf still has "caf", so in an effort to wean myself from my afternoon cup, I have started drinking this delightful cocoa mix from Target. 

It is totally decadent, full of calories and sugar, and has more sodium in it than I would like. BUT, it is doing the trick! I think I am fooling my brain into thinking that it is getting coffee! So, to the makers of Archer Farms cocoa and the fine folks at Target who thought, “hey, salted caramel hot cocoa mix sounds tasty!”, I am ever so grateful!

Day 25

Today, I am grateful for my chiropractor, Dr. Dani. She is theeeeee best at popping and cracking backs, for sure. But she is so much more. She has gifts and talents beyond words. She is such an inspiring, positively positive person. Joy and hope just burst out of her. She has been a great friend (and back cracker) for twelve years. She has helped ease my TMJ, rid me of migraines, reset the rib that the big kid kicked loose when he was in the womb, put me back on track many a time, and so much more. Most Minnesotans are natives and have family and friends from way back to surround them, but I am states away from my family and most of my lifelong friends are scattered across the country, so I am especially grateful for the support system we have up here. Neighbors, church friends, school friends, colleagues and a very special chiropractor lift us up, surround us with love, and fill in the spaces left open. I am so very grateful for the many special people who show us love and care in the Upper Midwest.