I was not a cool kid. My parents may beg to differ, but they are parents and by nature biased. Today, though, I realized that my kids might actually be cool, and not just in a proud, biased mom sort of way. We took the kids up to Donner Ski Resort today, and as we were walking through the parking lot, I saw some teenage girls looking at Aidan, with his baggy snow pants, wool sweater, Spiderman sunglasses, snowboard tucked under his arm, walking with a slight swagger, and I heard them say, "He is sooo cute!"
Then I took this picture of Avery while we were waiting for our lift tickets.
My cool kids. They even make me feel cool.
I had a different dose of perspective this morning. I have had the fly lady buzzing around in my head lately, and I have been taking baby steps toward eliminating the CHAOS in my life. I know I said last month I was going to embrace the clutter, I'd just like to embrace a little less of it. So last night, I took an extra ten minutes in the kitchen and actually scrubbed the dirty pots and pans that I would have otherwise let soak overnight. And then I took another five minutes and dried and put away the dishes that I would have otherwise let air dry until I needed them again. Then I wiped down the counter tops, buffed them with a clean, dry rag, and merrily skipped out of my clean kitchen (cool, huh?). What a joy it was to wake up to a sparkling clean kitchen, without dishes waiting to be cleaned or put away; clean counter tops with plenty of room for the toaster AND the crock pot to be out at the same time as I made breakfast AND dinner.
I beamed. Then I gloated, asking George if he had noticed how clean the kitchen was. He replied, "Yes. It made me kind of sad last night when I got home. Like no one lived here. Or like Martha Stewart lived here." My funny honey. Perhaps I'll leave out one dirty dish tonight, just so he knows I still live here.