remodeling this life

The past couple of weeks seemed long. Sick kids, sick me, too many doctor’s visits and not enough play time. It’s funny how suddenly when things are going not according to the plan, my eyes open to so much I take for granted each day. When a little boy has no appetite, I’m reminded to be grateful for when he does. When I can’t sleep at night, I’m reminded to be appreciative of all the moments of slumber I do get. When we make 7 trips to the doctor and 7 copays and a lot of prescriptions, I am reminded to be grateful for having the means to go to the doctor too many times in two weeks.

Yesterday, for the first time in weeks, my son seemed totally better. He went to school, he spent the afternoon playing outside in the yard with me. Tiny fingers dragged dump trucks of sand around, dug deep into the ground and got filthy. Even when he came for a hug and smeared those dirty digits on my white pants, I was just grateful for a sunny day playing outside with a happy and healthy boy.

I have my moments of not being so appreciative. Not embracing all the chaos and stuff that makes these imperfect days so wonderful. My focus goes elsewhere. Sometimes I spend too much time driving around and doing errands and feeling the pressure of too much to do. I do that to myself. I choose what has to be done and sometimes my priorities get shifted into the wrong order. When those times happen, I spend more money than I should, I have less energy than I need, and I have fewer moments doing the important things with the people I love.

A simple moment of a smiling little boy smearing dirt brings me back. Reminds me of what is important. Being grateful for what I have rather than what I think I need that is still out there somewhere, eluding me, is the key to living simply. Appreciating what is today, not wanting what isn’t. Being content in this time, this place, with what I have and who I am. Far easier to write than to do. A worthy goal nonetheless.

What are you grateful for today?

Adding this to beautiful life friday at Melissa’s. Check out what’s inspiring others this week.

Before I share a few gems from my reader this week for your weekend reading pleasure, I have a couple other linky things to share.

I started a tumblr a while back, then my computer died and when I got my new computer, I forgot all about it and never added the bookmark back. I finally did add it recently and have been tumbling a few things. It is much easier to share things I like around the web than doing these link roundups, but I still enjoy these. You can let me know if you don’t find them valuable. I try to keep them simple, not giving too many links each time I do one.

I also created a facebook fan page. If you’d like to be a fan of Remodeling This Life over there, I promise I’ll keep it simple over there, too. (Maybe that should be my new blog tagline. I’ve been thinking of changing it.)

Don’t forget that the Lisa Leonard Designs $50 Giveaway ends tomorrow. Leave a comment to be entered and I’ll be randomly choosing the winner and announcing it tomorrow.

And now, here are some links from my reader that I enjoyed this week:

• Big Rocks First
• Simple Easter Paper Crafts
• Spring Time Wall Art
• I Can’t Do It All
• Trying To Buy His Love

I woke up at 5:45 this morning to a bright flash of lightning followed by a loud clap of thunder. The loud crash of thunder was followed by the tiny sound of 4 feet shuffling across the tile floors into my room. Soon, my kids were wrestling for the best spot curled up next to mama. I had to quiet them by reminding them I have two sides. And the best kind of sandwich is a mommy sandwich. Soon, I had two kids surrounding me, and I was the filling. There was no more thunder, just some lightning illuminating the sky and the sound of raindrops against the bedroom windows to enjoy while the kids drifted back to sleep. Trapped there on the bed, instead of dozing back to sleep myself, I laid still enjoying the quiet sounds of mother nature mixed in with the sweet sounds of tiny heartbeats next to me.

Later in the morning, hubby arrived home from work. Since he works outside, he was sent home due to the rain. He helped me pack lunches, helped put socks and shoes on the kids and we took them to school together. After my Tuesday morning duties of school drop offs and school volunteering were over, we planned to meet back at home for some quiet time just the two of us. A true rarity round these parts. I walked in the door to the phone ringing to pick a sick kid up from school. So much for plans. After picking up my sick son, we arrived back home where I found myself curled back up in that same bed I’d been in a few hours ago but this time to settle a sweet boy to sleep. He napped, I napped. A true gift in the middle of the day on a Tuesday.

I woke up and left him there snoring, tucking the covers over his tiny body a little tighter. I found hubby and asked if he wanted to sit with me and have a chai tea. I asked if he’d like to play cards, too. We sat, sipping our spicy tea, playing gin rummy. It took a few turns before we both remembered the rules. We’re a little rusty at slowly passing time with card games. After we’d been playing a few minutes, I realized that the last time we’d played cards together like this was when I was pregnant with our first child. Two days before my scheduled induction for being 10 days overdue, we sat in a kitchen 1500 miles from here at this same kitchen table, laying out sets of 3s and 10s, timing contractions in between discards. That day, more than 5 1/2 years ago feels like a lifetime ago. I can still remember the heat from that July day in New York. I remember checking my watch over and over. Could this really be it? Could I really go into labor before my induction? Am I really about to be a mother? Will I know what to do?  What if I don’t know what to do?

Today, I sat at that same table and so many memories rushed back. A table full of dents, covered in glued on glitter, telling the stories of the most mundane moments that a family has spent together. The same table I sat at as a child for every bowl of Kix cereal before school and every family dinner. I thought of how when I was younger, my parents, brother and I all had our own spot at that table. I remember glasses of milk left there long after the evening dishes were done until we drank them. I remember cinnamon rolls and tangerines spread on that table on Christmas morning.

Small moments happen everyday. The moments we’ll remember most aren’t the ones that are planned weeks in advance and cost the price of admission and concession stand food. The biggest moments are the small moments. The ones that happen right in the midst of the chaos and the mundane. Savor them.