Most days start at 6am for me. I like my quiet time– time to enjoy coffee, quiet and prayerful thanksgiving. Just as I was easing into my early morning comfort zone, someone yells down the stairs, “Mom, I wet through my pull-up!” And there went my quiet time as I was ushered up the stairs to strip the bed, clean the mattress, launder the sheets, and bathe my youngest. All the while, one daughter, who had been awake since my early rise, putters around the house– what she was doing is still unclear to me. All I know is the morning madness started earlier than I had intended, and by the time the bus came to pick up the girls, said daughter still hadn’t eaten breakfast or brushed her teeth. How does this happen? I am still bra-less and barefoot, and in my pajamas– a white t-shirt and pajama bottoms– I find myself in the doorway exchanging tongue-sticking-outing with her (real mature, I know, but for some reason she is mad at me about her predicament), while the dog sneaks past my legs and out the door for what soon becomes a several minute frenzy. I’m still bra-less and barefoot, running through the neighbors’ yards, my boobs flying all over the place, with an audience of kids and adults laughing at the bus stop. I never did catch the dog– a neighbor-kid came to the rescue and grabbed him. But on my way back into the house, annoyed, frustrated, and convinced my day was ruined, I checked Facebook (as though that will admonish any of these feelings). That’s when this picture smacked me in the face– “On this day ten years ago…”

And then it no longer mattered that the neighbors saw me running around, barefoot and bra-less. It no longer mattered that my quiet time was interrupted in the chaos of the morning shenanigans. What mattered was this kid, and all my kids, are healthy, thriving kids. What matters is that I have a family to love. What matters is there is an endless list of things to be thankful for.