Something to talk about

I woke up to my feet being kissed and a little cup of coffee with lots of cream. After running around the apartment with Tom for a few minutes (using the bathroom, finding a watch, hugging, kissing) I got back into bed and read my new book as Tom left for work and the sun rose slowly in the sky, reaching me in varied splotches, filtered through two or more big trees.

I thought about how lucky I am.

I wanted to share it, even though it feels like showing-off. Sometimes I talk too much about how unlucky I am: Tom works so much, he's so tired; I have no baby or garden to tend to.

But this is just the more socially acceptable subject matter. I can't talk too much about how beautiful my husband is or how easy my life is - how lucky I am. I'd feel like a jerk. I feel a little like a jerk now.

But, I would hate for anyone to think I didn't appreciate what I have; I would hate to think I didn't appreciate it.

And it isn't luck. I am blessed. I should stop complaining. I should let the sparkle in my eye speak for itself. I will talk about eternal things.

Today I will babysit this little love:

Yesterday Tom and I babysat eight adorable hyperactives; 2-8 years old.

They are my babies and my garden to tend, along with all of my other relationships and regular tasks.

And Tom had the last two days off and wasn't too tired to make lasagna or go shopping, or do any of the things I wanted to do, actually.

Not much to complain about here.

But sometimes there are things - hard things - and I hope that through them I keep this perspective: this sun-shining, long-weekend perspective. I am blessed.