~Benjamin Franklin
Its in the spirit of this definition of miracles that I'm writing this morning. The last two days, it has been seemingly small things, natural things, that have seemed quite wonderful to me.
Last night, Doug had to run to the store to get some food for our birds. When he came back, I was sitting on the couch and he said, "Come here for a second. Come outside." I walked out onto the patio with him, looking around trying to see what it was he was so obviously excited about. After a few moments I realized that it was the cool air, bordering on--dare I say it?--cold, about which he was so happy.
To continue this excitement, when I woke up this morning I found that I was underneath the blankets on my bed. We had slept with the windows open (a small miracle in and of itself) and when I poked my face out was delighted to feel my cheeks nipped by cold air. When I walked Keilana to school this morning both the kids were wearing heavy sweaters. Though I was wearing a warm long-sleeved shirt, I wished I had worn a sweater as well--what a delightful longing! I love summer and winter (though living here makes me love even the idea of summer less every year), but neither elicits in me the kind of wonderment and gratitude that do the fall and spring. The changing: in fall, the fading away of the heat, the leaves turning color, the first delightful meals of stew and evenings curled up with a cup of cocoa; in spring, the bursting forth of color and new life after the long drab winter, the first warm rays of sunshine on my back. Its in these changes, usually so welcome by the time they come, that I find my gratitude for this world, my testimony that it does have a divine (and loving) creator behind it all, is renewed and amplified.
Wednesday night, we had to go to the Church to watch a broadcast and afterwards we began talking to a friend, a conversation that went on longer than it probably should've, given that bedtime had already passed when the broadcast ended. But how grateful I am that we have friends that enjoy thoughtful conversation as much as we do! Anyway, we got home rather late and Keilana has a little bit of a cold, so I decided that if she didn't wake up on her own in time for school in the morning, I wasn't going to wake her. Dylan, being his stubborn self, woke up at 6:30. But he let me get away with putting in a movie for him and going back to bed myself. So I slept in til 8:15! It was glorious. I laughed and said, only half-seriously, to Doug that since Keilana didn't go to school, I didn't have to go to work that evening and he needed a day off anyway, we should all go to Costco and get some shopping done. He went to work until about 11, then he came home and we did just that.
On the way back, we stopped at Katy's office to say hello, and ended up talking four about 4 1/2 hours. I am grateful for a mother-in-law who, blessed with an independent child, did all she could to nurture that independence. I have a husband who is not in any way whatsoever a momma's boy (and the more I listen to other women talk about their husbands, the more grateful I am for that), but who at the same time has a tremendous amount of respect for his mother. They enjoy one another's friendship and, for all the struggles inherent in their relationship for various, quite understandable reasons, they have a great deal of trust for each other. She has been a wonderful second mother to me, and though we don't spend that kind of time with her as often as perhaps we should, I'm grateful for the times we do have that opportunity.
And the greatest miracle of all started on the way home. Dylan has always been a great sleeper. The night he was born, he slept for almost five hours. The first day we brought him home from the hospital, he slept for eight or ten (granted, during the day, instead of at night, but still). Such has been his wonderful disposition. Until a few months ago, when he decided he'd rather not sleep at all. My wonderfully content little boy has lately been always just on the verge of grumpy, because he never gets enough sleep. Wednesday, he fell asleep in the car on the way to my doctor appointment--at 9am. Obviously, the kid needs more sleep. That afternoon (since his nap in the car had been all of about 5 minutes), I tried to get him to nap. I left him in his room for 3 1/2 hours. I spanked him a couple of times. I tried to bribe him. Nothing worked. That night, we didn't get home until 10. Then he woke up at 6:30. He slept for most of the drive to Costco yesterday (about 20 min). On the way home from Katy's office, he fell asleep. It was about 6:30, so still a good hour until his normal bedtime. Convinced that this would mean he would wake me up at 3am, I went to bed rather grumpy (especially since I don't ever get enough sleep myself, what with achy hips and annoying headaches, etc). He woke up in the middle of the night and seemed a little disoriented and upset, so Doug brought him into our room so he could snuggle up with me. He went back to sleep immediately, and didn't wake up until the alarm went off at 7 this morning!! It was glorious, and it has been wonderful this morning to see him back to his normal little Dylan self--happy, mellow, easily satisfied, low key. Amazing what one good night's sleep can do!
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