It doesn't take much...

I know I'm mostly a simple person, but today was a day full of simple smiles that completely filled my smile tank.  We're in the middle of a pretty busy couple of days, and even so, there was time to enjoy some of the most regular, run-of-the-mill treasures...

Not the least of which was a popsicle and some swing time between the girls:

It was the best day I've had with Abby in a while.  She's always precious to me, but today, she was particularly sweet and helpful - doing all kinds of chores, including cleaning her room without me standing over her micro-managing. 

I went back there to check on her progress, and found the place pretty well cleaned up - especially considering what it looked like to start with.  Among the smiles I found in there -

A made-up bed, with an extra fleece blanket that came from who-knows-where

Of all the dress up clothes lying around the room, she found a hanger for her brand-new pillowcase/Native American/handmade dress...we can't have that getting wrinkled

And without me telling her to, she picked everything up off of the floor, including her naked Barbies, dirty pajama pants, and shoes.  Even if that's not exactly where things go, it's progress.  And I took it.

Something else I learned today...a roll of pennies is way better to a five year old than a dollar bill.  Any day of the week.  (At least it is to my five year old.)

That's it, a couple of simple pleasures, lots of smiles, and a complete day.

Simple Pleasures: Reading in Bed

There have been a lot of traditions I have tried to start with my family that have fizzled out over time.  One tradition that I am happy to say I have been ridiculously committed to, however, is the bedtime story with each of my children.

For those years when Ben was a solo child of mine, we read book after book at bedtime.  We let him persuade us into reading more and more of them.  We knew it was a stall tactic, but we didn't mind.  Those were precious moments, and we knew they wouldn't last forever.

When Abby came along, we limited bedtime to two stories each.  It was amazing, still, how much longer it took with just one more little child.

Just before Sarah was born, there was a short period of time when I was able to cheat and I would read one "boy" book and one "girl" book to both of them together, as we laid Abby - Mommy - Ben, side-by-side in Abby's double bed.

Then Ben started reading to himself, those big chapter books, and he didn't "need" me anymore.

And, really, I was okay with that because while he didn't need me to read to him, he was still reading.  And that's what we were trying to instill all along - a love of reading.

Besides it came just in time for me to start reading to baby sister, Sarah.  This girl is third in line of three kids who love to read.  She'll grab any one of the books we've amassed over three children, and she will bring throw books to at anyone who might remotely look like they're able to read and sit in their lap before they know what hit them.

Following in the strong-willed steps of her older brother, I find her resisting sleep in favor of devouring a good book in her bed.  Even if I don't actually witness her doing this, the evidence is clear -

She's got no less than a dozen books in her bed on any given day.  She rotates them out from a giant stack she has shoved underneath her bed.  (Apparently the bookshelf is just too far away.)

I love this.

I should be upset that she's staying up late and straining her eyes, but the truth is, it's in the genes.  I did this when I was a wee one.  I kept 3 or 4 novels under my pillow and read by the dim light of my nightlight so that I wouldn't get caught by my mom for staying up past bedtime. 

This is about as rebellious as goody-two-shoes get.

I still love reading at bedtime.  It seems to be the only remedy for insomnia I've found guaranteed to work. 

Today's simple pleasure is knowing that all of these children of mine love to read - at bedtime or not.  Though, the fact that it happens at bedtime reminds me of my childhood when I looked forward that precious time with a good book.

TV.  If kids are entertained by two letters, imagine the fun they'll have with twenty-six.  Open your child's imagination.  Open a book.  ~Author Unknown 

Sharing this at Dayle's Simple Pleasures Party today - better late than never!

Simple Green

No, no.  It's not about the all-purpose cleaner.

It's about something you can't buy on a shelf (unless you count fertilizers and stuff).

It's something you "grow" to appreciate, especially when your whole state goes for a month with nary a drop of rain coupled with heat indices in the triple digits for as long as you can remember and more of the same in the extended forecast.

It's the kind of green that lasts for only a moment in the two weeks of spring-like weather we get to experience down here in Georgia.  This year, it was at the end of April. 

The kind of green that makes you optimistic for the summer.

Then, the days get hotter, the sun lasts longer, and the grass withers away.  

But with the crunchiness comes a different kind of simple pleasure.

But the best part is how grateful it has made me for a few drops of rain when we finally get them.  And how thankful I am for the Georgia Farm Bureau and their collective prayers for rain and to live in a place where this is not only a tolerable practice, but a preferred one.  And how big the smile was that crossed my face tonight as I walked outside and breathed in the sweet smell of rain as we were blessed with a 15-minute deluge.

Tomorrow, I suspect I'll see a little more green.

And, that, friends, is my simple pleasure.

See a lot more Simple Pleasures at Dayle's Simple Pleasures party.

The Simplest Surprise

When it comes to gardening, I mostly don't.  I love the idea of spending time pruning, preening, and picking, but it's just not practicable.  For now, anyway.  In my relationship with Sam, he is most definitely the green thumb.  I do what I can - which is to say that I mow the grass.  But as far as beautifying, that's really all him.

When we moved into this house nearly five years ago, we had very little landscaping to do.  We added some perennials to the flowerbeds for low-maintenance color and let it ride.

Every so often, the plants get a little unruly and we trim them back or weed them out.  Sometimes, they get more than a little unruly, and we have to spend a full day or more hacking and tugging.  We did that on Tuesday night.

Maybe it's because we were out, knee-deep, in the gardens that I noticed this week's Simple Pleasure, or maybe it's because they just bloomed and I hadn't had the chance to notice prior, but among one of our most successful patches of perennials - our yellow coneflowers - there was a surprise.

A solitary purple coneflower.

Now I'm sure there's some sort of scientific reason for this anomaly.  We do have some purple coneflowers in our backyard that we transplanted from our previous home that, I suppose, could have migrated out front via some sort of critter.  

But for me, I like to think God put it there to make me smile.  And to make me wonder over the glory of God embodied all around us - including in something so simple as a single flower.

The earth is filled with the Lord's glory.  Habakkuk 2:14

Join me and so many others as we recognize and cherish our Simple Pleasures with Dayle at a A Collection of This and That.

Simple Pleasures - Homework, Really?

A couple of weeks ago, Ben came home with a baggie of soil, a styrofoam cup, and a couple of seeds. The instructions were to simply plant the seed, watch the seed sprout, document its growth, and bring it in to class  to present the plant at a "coffee house" for parents.

Well...let's just say that Ben has inherited his mother's brown thumb.

Houston, we have no germination.

Instead we have an empty, sad, styrofoam cup.

I realized this a few days ago, too late to do anything about it.  After thinking on it for a few days, that old adage came to me - the one that says something like the only time failure is a failure is if you don't learn something from it.  (This was after I considered digging up a plant sprout from our weed bed back yard and transplanting it into the cup, but that just didn't feel right.) So, I suggested to Ben that since he didn't have a plant to show off at the coffee house, maybe he could research and present some reasons why his seed may not have grown.

He was all over it.

I would even go so far as to say he was delighted to do it.  He set up a station at the kitchen table and while I went to scrounge up some flower stickers, he had already gotten as far as #4 before I could tell him how to correctly spell "enough".  (Side note:  I remember not knowing how to spell this exact word in 3rd grade.  I raised my hand and asked my teacher.  She said, "Just sound it out."  I was furious.  I knew that didn't work with "enough".  I spelled it "enuf", and I was mad as fire until I found out the correct spelling.  Type A much?)  It was almost exciting for me to watch him make his little presentation.

After he made his poster about why seeds don't grow, he moved on to researching various types of seeds, including acorns and pine cones, which we were able to find in our yard and at church.  (Thanks to procrastinating, these were our only seed collections.)  We wiki'd and googled and found out some fun facts about these two types of seeds.  Then, he wanted to research bees, but it was already late and I didn't want him monopolizing show-n-tell time.

Maybe we'll research bees later today.

Because hanging out with my boy, doing schoolwork, and seeing the twinkle in his eye as he soaked it all up is my simple pleasure this week.

Although, for the life of me, I have no idea why he referred to me as "mother".  This is a first - and I hope not a common thing.  I much prefer Mommy at this stage of life...

And while we're on the subject of homework, I'm throwing in a bonus simple pleasure - because my four year old, Abby, who emulates her big brother so much, takes it upon herself to do her own "homework" and adorn our fridge with it.  Seeing them have a passion for learning (and coloring in the lines) is just priceless.

 

Join us at Dayle's Simple Pleasures Party on A Collection of This and That.

Simple Pleasure - Looking Up

I already knew what my simple pleasure was going to be this week.  What I didn't know was that this morning at Bible study, I would find the words to accompany the photos that I've been storing up for a while now.

I'm not exactly sure why I started noticing the sunsets and the clouds in the sky to the extent that I do, but I do remember when.  Back in the fall, on my drive home I spent the majority of my commute on a long, straight 55 mph road with soybean and cotton fields on both sides and pine trees off on the distance.  At 5 o'clock, the sun was reaching the tops of the pine trees on its descent into nighttime and it yielded the most spectacular colors and displays.  It became something I looked forward to every afternoon.

Now, even though I don't have the commute, I still have the sunset...and the morning sun and the afternoon sun.  And those beautiful clouds and hues.

This morning, Beth Moore was discussing one of David's psalms (Psalm 19) as it hailed God's revelation through nature.

 ¹ The heavens declare the glory of God;
   the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
² Day after day they pour forth speech;
   night after night they reveal knowledge.
³ They have no speech, they use no words;
   no sound is heard from them.
⁴ Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
   their words to the ends of the world.

She discussed "the paradox of inaudible noise."  Through which, though no words are spoken, the sun comes up in the morning and screams out the praises of the Creator.  It shines a light on this world that illuminates the interconnectedness of every single thing on this planet that is so far beyond our comprehension.

Romans 1:20 says this:

²⁰ For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God.  (New Living Translation)

Today, the majesty of God's most brilliant artwork - that changes every single morning, noon, and night in a new and delightful way - is my simple pleasure.

 

This is a midday sun, trying to peek out from a blanket of clouds...

...which made way for this...a beautiful blue clearing.  I love that.

One of these days, I wholeheartedly intend to capture a sunrise.  We'll see...

In the meantime, I will continue to marvel at these sights and plead with my kids to look out the window/up at the sky/on the horizon.  You don't have to look far for beauty.  It is most certainly all around us.

My assignment for you is to take the time to notice it...right now, tonight, tomorrow morning.  Just sometime.  Extra credit if you lie on your back in the grass and look for cloud shapes.  There are no two ways around it...God's artwork is amazing (and - bonus - completely free). 

Linking up today with Dayle for her Simple Pleasures Party.  I triple dog dare you to go read some more.

Simple Pleasures: Worn Out Sneakers

As "late" as Debbie was to the simple pleasures party this week, she wasn't the last. Leave it to me to come in as everyone else is leaving.

Hey, I've never claimed to be punctual.

I do have the excuses of Thursday morning Bible study and having to take breakfast for that as well as snack for my son's first grade class this morning.  Then there's the added pressure of Mrs. Debbie's Miss Whimsy coming over tonight to watch those three rowdy kids, and I would hate for my unkempt house to end up on her blog some day.  I can see it now - "How not to keep your house tidy."  Or something like that.  (I know she wouldn't actually do that.  I just have a wild imagination.)

Honestly, I can't really blame the late-ness on those things.  Truth be told, this is as early as it was going to get for me.

I wasn't sure what I was going to do for my simple pleasure this week, but as I tidied up in preparation for Miss Whimsy coming over tonight, I stumbled across these:

We call them Ben's Play Shoes.  Once upon a time, they were new.  And we would tell him, "Go put on your nice tennis shoes."  Say, for school, or maybe to wear to church on Wednesday night.  But as time progressed, they got a little worn in as he splashed through puddles, tripped on asphalt, used the toes as alternatives to the brakes on his bike, traipsed through that "beloved" Georgia red clay, and apparently refused to tie his shoelaces.

And now - they look like this.  That's right - daylight coming through the toes.  My favorite part is when he decides to wear colorful socks and the red toes peek through.  He just wears these around the neighborhood to ride his bike and play with the other rambunctious little boys whose shoes are in equal disrepair, so I don't have to be embarrassed about it. 

The reason these well-worn worn-out sneakers are my simple pleasure this week is two-fold.  Number one - the represent everything that being a little boy is all about.  They are dirty, ragged, broken-in.  They've run a million miles through who-knows-what and most likely enjoyed every single minute of it.  They even bring home some of the who-knows-what with them.  See...just take a look inside.  There's a little pile of dirt in there.

The second reason these shoes are my simple pleasure goes back to my frugal roots.  They aren't name brand shoes.  When they end up looking like this after a couple of months, what would be the point of spending that kind of money?  But still, he squeezed every penny's worth out of the fifteen dollars we paid for them.  And they fulfilled their purpose - just as they should for a seven year old boy.

The price of a happy childhood couldn't be paid any more appropriately.

So when I feel grumpy about his red toes peeking through, I will remind myself of this fact.  Shoes aren't meant to last forever.  And, Oh the places they'll takes us.

Join me for more Simple Pleasures at Dayle's Simple Pleasures Party today.  (I promise you won't get in trouble if you're later than me!)

A Simple Gesture

If there's one thing I've learned over the past eight years of marriage, it's that it doesn't take a dozen roses and an airplane writing in smoke across the sky in to demonstrate love perfectly.

For me, and I think most people, love is about all of those gestures we don't stop to think about - the kind we easily take for granted.

Please bear with me -

When we first moved into this house, we quickly realized that we needed some sort of system in the bathroom - a hook, a bar, a table, whatever next to our shower.  Our bathroom was one of the many reasons we knew this was "the" house.  Without meaning to brag, it's just it.

Except for the little fact that when someone emerged from the shower without the help of a little hook, bar, table, whatever nearby to provide quick access to a bath towel, it was a bit of a hike to the nearest linen cabinet.  Those are, quite possibly, the coldest four or five steps in the history of the world.

So Sam and I went shopping.  Stopping at all of our favorite, discount stores, we ended up with a lovely wrought-iron-looking tall, skinny table, most likely meant to hold a plant or some other decoration (about which I know next to nothing).  This little table fit perfectly right next to the shower door, and became the official towel holder - if there is such a title.

Over the years it has held countless towels.  We went through a phase where we stacked up a bunch of them - bath towel, wash cloth, bath towel, wash cloth, and so on.  It felt like a time-saver for those harried mornings.  Most days, though, whoever gets a shower first gets out two sets of towels and lays them there.  It used to be me.  I guess you could say I started the trend.  Now, Sam is the early riser.  And I can always count on waking up in the morning and finding a bath towel and wash cloth waiting on that little table.

No matter what.

Even if I had one of my typical hormone-related meltdowns, or fought dirty, or threw something away that I shouldn't have, or said something hurtful the night before.

The towels are still waiting for me on the table.

And it just makes me smile.

And reminds me that I am loved.

This week, after a way-too-long hiatus from the Simple Pleasures Party, the unfailing promise of the sight of this

is my simple pleasure.

For many, many more simple pleasures, please join Dayle at the Simple Pleasures Party.

Simple Footies

Every year beginning on the first day of fall, when teachers start telling the children stories of cool, crisp air, hay rides, and raking up leaves only to come inside for a cup of cocoa to warm up afterward, Ben starts asking me when it's going to be cold enough to wear footie pajamas.

The problem is - we live in Georgia.  It's actually almost never cold enough to wear footie pajamas.  At least certainly not the first couple of days weeks months of fall.

But then there's that first cold snap of the season.  This year it came as October turned into November, earlier than usual.  Naturally, as I perused the weather forecast and casually mentioned that it was going to be getting "cold" (for Georgia anyway!), Ben perked right up.  "So I get to wear my footies!?"

You see, he loves those things.

Ben isn't a small kid.  So as the years have passed, it has become increasingly more difficult to find footies that fit him.  We've tried to suggest that maybe he's getting to big for footies.  He protests.  Not in a whiny, baby-like way or anything.  He just really and truly loves footie pajamas.  He's all about comfort.  And I guess, for him, they are the ultimate.

To me, they were always kind of like a straight-jacket.  But I guess differing opinions are what make the world go 'round, right?

I've blogged about the footies before.  He insisted on wearing them to Pajama Day in kindergarten last year.  I fretted and worried and agonized over the decision.  I just knew the other kids were going to make fun of him.  I just knew he'd be the only kid wearing them.  Lo and behold I was wrong (as is usually the case when I worry).  No one cared, other people wore them, and life was just as peachy after Pajama Day as it was before.  (And some of us, namely me, came out of it a little wiser.)

Fast forward to first grade.  Last weekend, following on the heels of what will forever be remembered as the "kidney stone week", Ben went on his first camping trip with the RA's at church.  He was going without a parent, under the supervision of other adults, in the company of dozens of other little boys all the same age or older than him.  Naturally, it was during one of the coldest nights we'd had so far this season.  When I mentioned that fact out loud, Ben, once again, lit up.  "Well that's no problem!  I'll just wear my footie pajamas."

I could feel my worries rising up from the depths.  I tried to squelch them with the reminder that last year Pajama Day went off without a hitch, so maybe the camping trip wouldn't be any different.  It didn't work.  My mind raced - But it's a year later!  He's a year older!  Is it going to be okay?  Should I make him wear different ones?  Even though, honestly, they probably are the warmest things he owns.

Determined to let him learn his own lessons, whether the hard way or not, I packed his footies in his duffle bag and kissed him goodbye for 24 hours.

I could hardly wait to hear from him when he got home.  My first question:  "So....Ben....did anyone....like your footies?"

He said, "Someone told me they were baby pajamas, but I just said 'No they aren't.  Anyone can wear them.'"  And that was it.  End of conversation(s).

Why?  Why do I underestimate my children so much?  They are self-confident, logical little people.  If someone ridicules them, they don't buckle and fold.  They offer a well-thought-out rebuttal and go on with their footie-pajama-wearing selves.

That is just one of many, many reasons I love their little one-piece-pj-wearing souls.

In light of my confident little seven year old with the body of at least an eight year old, I hereby deem my Simple Pleasure today "Footie Pajamas".  Because, if I'm being honest, I do love them too.  (On my kids...not on my hot-flashin' self.)

And in honor of Footie Pajama love, I sneaked into each of the kids rooms, turned the light on, and snapped a shot of them sleeping in their footies. 

Oops...woke Sarah up.   You'll just have to take my word that those are footies.

If anyone is interested, Sears carries boys footie pajamas up to size 12 (!).  And it has recently come to my attention that they sell adult-sized ones at Target (at least for ladies).  I guess Ben was right - anyone can wear footies.

Sharing the Simple Pleasure of Footie Pajamas and My Kids that Love Them with Dayle at

Afternoon Chocolate

Almost as much as I enjoy a cup of coffee first thing in the morning, I like to treat myself to a single piece of chocolate every day around 2pm.  I could call it dessert, but it's long enough after lunch that it feels like some sort of forbidden indulgence.  And I so look forward to it.  (Yes.  Every single day.  Don't tell my boot camp instructor.)

It doesn't matter much to me what form it comes in, be it a Hershey kiss, a Dove promise, a piece of candy more than a few months old that one of the kids got at school and I salvaged from under the seats of the van...I'm not picky.  The other day, I pulled out a solitary Hershey bliss for my afternoon treat.  I carefully unwrapped the goody pondering how many bites I could possibly get out of the tiny square of chocolate.

I threw the foil wrapper away and glanced at the chocolate.  It didn't require close scrutiny to notice something wasn't right.

What you see there are the unmistakable, tiny bite marks of a seventeen month old who visited my office a few days before and evidently decided to help herself to some of my chocolate stash located in one of the lowest drawers of my desk, perfectly accessible to little people.

I laughed as I remembered prying the candy from her mouth and throwing it back into my desk drawer with a stern "No, no, Sarah!", obviously not taking note of the damage she'd done to it.

My simple pleasure this week is the indulgence in a solitary piece of chocolate in the afternoon.

And apparently, it's Sarah's simple pleasure too.

Enjoy many, many more Simple Pleasures today at Dayle's Simple Pleasure party.

The Whole Lot of Us

It's been one of those weeks.  It started out on the powder-white sands of Destin, Florida - almost Utopia.  And now I'm home, studying like a madwoman for the biggest exam of my life, stressing over how many more days I'll be gainfully employed, and just this afternoon - back from the dentist with not one, but TWO cavities.  If that's not bad news, I don't know what is.  (Okay, there are actually a lot worse things.  That might be slightly dramatic.)

I find myself repeating Matthew 6:34 over and over again, "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own", though the words don't seem to be sinking in.  Maybe my heart isn't listening to what my brain is saying.

In an in-between moment, I stopped to look at the pictures we took last weekend at the beach, and I was elated to stumble upon one I didn't remember taking.

For obvious reasons.

A woman on the boat with us told me to sit down and join the rest of my family so she could take our picture.  I tried to protest, but she insisted.  And now, we're blessed with a rare but treasured picture of all of us together.  (Even if Sarah is hitting Ben in the head.  I guess toddlers do these things.)

And the simple offer that brought about this piece of family history incited a smile this morning, in the midst of one of the more stressful seasons of my life.  I needed that little smile more than words can say.

Now I just need to remember the recipe for peace-

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ~Philippians 4:6

And to the woman who took our picture, thank you.  You were a blessing in more ways than one to me this week.

My simple pleasure this week is a tie - between the kind insistence of a stranger and the treasure she captured with a snapshot of our entire family.

I promise next week, I won't be quite so stressed out.  Or maybe two weeks.  Or maybe October 29th around 5pm exactly.

Until then...read more Simple Pleasures with Dayle at A Collection of This & That.

Simple Visits

As much as I am a suburban girl through and through, there is something about visiting my dear husband's oh-so-rural hometown that rejuvenates me.  A weekend at Grammie's house (as my kids would say) just fills me up in all of the right ways.

It might Grammie herself and her unfailing ability to make us feel like there is nothing else on earth she'd rather be doing than enjoying our company at her quiet, lovely home nestled on a hill overlooking a couple of ponds.   It might be the amazing breakfasts that Grandaddy prepares every single morning.  It might be the serenity of being miles from anyone (except maybe a few wild animals of which I'm frightened in an oh-so-suburban way).  It might be the fact that there is love every single place you go in that small town, whether it's the grocery store, or the grandparents' house, or church on Sunday morning.  It feels as if the whole place is bursting at the seams...with pure love and care.  And I am so blessed for such a wonderful little town to have found a way into my life.

I remember visiting for the first time my freshman year of college, nine years ago.  I drove there with my would-be husband for his cousin's wedding, then spent the night at a mutual friend's house who lived down the hall from me in my dorm and across the same small town as my future husband.  (Small world, I tell you.)  From the moment I arrived, I just knew.  I was home.  I wasn't even dating my husband at the time (well, he says that was our first date....), but I just felt like I had arrived somewhere that I belonged.  It was the same feeling I got when I visited my now-alma mater.  God spoke to me.  And I heard.  Loud and clear.

And now, this sleepy little town is my home away from home.  My respite.

And it's where we spent our last weekend, relishing in the joys of family - mostly outside at the cookout house, enjoying the beautiful fall weather.  (I have been waiting all year for this cool, crisp air.)

Where Grammie provides endless snacks for perpetually hungry youngin's

Where youngin's peep over the wall of the cookout house wishing they could get down to that pond...somehow... 

.

Maybe on the tippy-toes?  (Where pants are optional because comfort comes first...)

 Where the cookout house has become a racetrack for princesses on Big Wheels

And gorgeous cousins cooperate for group pictures

Where birthday girls spin in endless pirouettes while younger cousins climb into buckets in the background

Where there's always a party, even if it's just the immediate family

And where your niece watches on as your sixteen-month old tackles a giant sun-shaped balloon

Visits to Grammie's - I think the whole family would be with me on this one - this is our simple pleasure.

(Even if the whole place does a sigh of relief when my rowdy party of five heads home.)

We love you, Grammie!  (And Grandaddy too.)

Linking up with Dayle today at...