Like That

"And I found out she does homeschool," Jane chirps. I gather laundry from the bedrooms. I kick a pair of footie jammies and the remains of Sunday's clothes over the hardwoods out into the living room. Jane gathers socks and unders that trail behind.

"Oh, that's nice," I say.  She plops on the leather ottoman pushed to the side for our laundry arena.

"She was being nice," Janie adds, "even to this kid that was being a PILL as if she loved him the same as she loved everyone else." I pause. She nudges another sock into the pile of whites. "I wanna be more like that," she says.

Like that. I'm surprised she can notice.

And so we divide the laundry into lumbering barges and set sail for the washer each load threaded to the next with conversation.

Gratitude:

3093. How I go to comfort Myra in the middle of the night and she traces my earring with her finger.

3094. How she pats my shoulder when Joe cries, "Up there, up there," she says.

3095. Lucy's announcement, "Did you know I have a hard time going to sleep without sucking my thumb?"

3096. Jane's observation, "Sometimes people that treat other people wrongly have been treated wrongly themselves."

3097. And how Auntie Rosie calls and Jane says, "Can we ask Auntie Rosie to dinner? Auntie Rosie is just such a pleasure to be around."

3098. How we clean out some of my old books from my parents house and Lucy prays, "Jesus, thank-you that Grammie gave us about a hundred books. And I don't think she has even read any of them."

3099. How Myra has a near success pooping in the toilet and Craig fields the ensuing clean-up.

3100. Barbecued burgers, bleu cheese and barbecue sauce, classic Lays, slaw and cream puffs -- mmmmMMm.

3101. The annual Mother-Daughter-Tea in Craig's home town -- generation after generation gathered around banquet tables in the old country church.

3102. How my sister-in-law's sister happens to be in town because of a death in their family and comes too.

3103. Myra snuggled asleep in my arms while the guest speakers talk.

3104. Lemon pie with a layer of whip cream.

3105. Learning to know what I think before I speak and when say it.

3106. Lucy's birthday party and how the night rolls out one conversation seamed to the next and how my dad and Craig's dad carry on about fishing and golf and have Great-Grammie laughing and laughing.

3107. Notes and gifts given with love.

3108. Fresh bark in the perennial beds.

3109. Raspberry starts from down on the farm.

3110. Learning again that with our children, compliance is not the same as devotion and how to make each work for the other.

3111. Lucy's prayer, "And Jesus, thank-you Emma told on me when I tried to get Myra to nurse on me."

3112. Jane's observation, "That guy looked really old so he probably doesn't have very good eyes so it's good we didn't honk at him," as we pass a slow driver.

3113. How when I burp Joe on my shoulder he turns his face to my cheek.

3114. How I confess I've wrongly accused Lucy of loosing Jack's flip-flop and Lucy grins. "Eventually I may be right," she says.

3115. How Myra mimes the whole story when Craig tells me Myra and Lucy collapsed the lounge chair out back.

3116. Lawn chairs with cushions.

3117. Teal bathroom rugs.

3118. Craig's confidence when I crumble under pressure, "I'd rather be around you when you're mad then anyone else when they're happy." And how I keep replaying that when everyone needs everything all at once.

3119. Learning again that sometimes just making a decision is more important than picking the perfect thing.

3120. How the staff at our favorite Mexican restaurant bought us dinner for Mother's Day.

3121. How Joe whinnies like a horse when I pick him up.

3122. Gathering up the reigns of each day and praying the Lord teaches me to steer.