Yesterday, I was whiny and unmotivated.
Today's a new day.
The boys are still fighting the crud, but I decided to be militant about finding joy. When I'm frustrated, they get frustrated. When I get snippy, they amp up the whining. It's a reinforcing loop that always ends badly, unless I decide to just stop the cycle.
So, all three of us played on Owen's bed. We stayed in our pajamas. We read Richard Scarrey and ate applesauce.
Later, we went to the dump, and I made sure we had enough time for Owen to help dump the recyclables. It's almost orgasmic for him, and all too often, I'm in too much of a hurry to let him help.
We also went to the bank, and I drove out of my way to use the bank with the old-fashioned vacuum tubes. Like magic, the canister always comes back with a sucker for Owen. Every day is Halloween at our local PNC.
As we left the bank, Owen asked, "Who doesn't love a silly machine?"
"Communists," I replied. Because, really. Who doesn't love a silly machine?
We went to Joel's ear appointment, and later, I got a flu shot. Owen held my hand and pronounced me to be "very brave." Then, we all went to Panera for celebratory juice, coffee, and Pumpkin Muffies.
We returned home, and I decided that I wanted to tackle something big.
We got the rakes.
I started raking. Owen "helped" by raking the leaves away from my piles and asking, repeatedly, "Can I jump in the pile yet?" Because I was being militant about my joy-finding, I just let it go.
Finally, I allowed him to do this:
An Arizona girl like myself still recognizes the wonder of a crunchy leaf pile. Instant joy, made from nature's debris.
Yesterday, I was feeling brown and defeated. But, today, through an act of will, I brushed away the sadness, to see the green, joyful life waiting beneath.