Moe & I packed the kids in the truck & drove them out to Big Bear Lake. We were out there celebrating the middle sister’s fifth birthday, and all I wanted to is take a million pictures of the kids. What they say is true: You never know how quickly time is passing by until you have kids. As busy as we are, we always make sure to hit the “pause” button long enough to enjoy our children, and Big Bear has always been one of my favorite places to take them.

It’s almost midnight as I’m writing this (which, thanks to Daylight Savings, is actually one in my book), and I’m pooped. I’ve done 4 loads of laundry since we got home from Big Bear, fed the baby a zillion ounces of milk, and my house still looks like a wreck from all the stuff we’ve yet to unpack. ⁣

 

I remember telling Moe how much I loved doing laundry and he looked at me like I was nuts...then he commented that he’s “never had this many pairs of clean underwear at once,” and we both agreed that this wasn’t exactly a bad thing. I know it sounds mundane, but when I walk to the kitchen to do my laundry, I’m grateful for it’s accessibility; I’m actually overjoyed at the fact that I’ve got such awesome human beings under my roof and it’s a joy washing their things. ⁣

 

I read an article once (probably a decade ago), written by a woman whose husband was deployed overseas and she said something along the lines of this: “I don’t vacuum my house after my husband leaves. I live with the sand he’s brought in from his boots when he’s gone and I love picking up after him when he’s here. Seeing his socks on the floor is proof that he’s alive and next to me.” That’s always stuck with me, and I guess what I’m saying is that I’m grateful to finally know what that feels like first-hand. ⁣

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