Good morning, everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend. I’m usually excited to share my weekend adventures, but this one slipped under the radar. David was at work all weekend, and it rained non-stop. So the girls and I were the only ones hanging out. It was a nice weekend, even if there aren’t any pictures or stories to share.
We did laundry, decorated our home for the fall, spent more time in jammies than we should, made castles out of magnatiles, and messed up in the kitchen.
Overall, it was a relaxing experience and refreshing in its own right. Although being stuck inside with a 16-month-old and a 4-year old all day is not relaxing, I found the weekend to be a great experience.
It made me think (uh oh, Monday introspection? Here’s ….)
A friend of mine last week asked me if, in fact, I am as happy as I appear to be. Bold question. The question stopped me for a moment, but then made me laugh because I know that if David had asked her, he’d have laughed, since he knows how desperate I am.
As I thought about it more, I realized that I am indeed a happy person. I kept going over this in my mind. Why? Why am I so happy?
It is obvious that I am grateful for my good health, my hardworking and loyal husband, my two healthy daughters, my solid roof, my food, my home, my family, etc. That’s more than enough to be grateful for a lifetime. I am very aware of it.
Yet, I believe that a large part of my happiness comes from my willingness and ability to focus on the positive. Since I can remember, I have a strange quality of focusing on the good things in my life.