Patchwork

I'm grateful today for:

* My mother-in-law for carrying on a lovely tradition of showing up at our house before Mothers' Day and planting flowers in the beds in my front yard. Her gifted green thumb sets our garden on a less-shameful trajectory than if it were left solely to me and mine. Today she brought lavender and zinnias and a sweet reminder of just how nice moms can be.

* Jack's therapy iPad, which didn't break when Jack threw it across the room in an angry fit. Though it crashed into my grandmother's china cupboard and then landed face-down on the hardwood, the screen did not shatter and mercifully it still works. Big. Fat. Sigh. I could kiss an Apple product engineer.

* Lilac bushes blossoming in springtime and filling our backyard with their intoxicating smell. (Why can't the earth smell like this always? And why can't this same mild temperature stick around for more than two weeks in May and two weeks in September?)

* Our toddler basketball phenom for cracking us all up with his obsessed shooting, swooshing, and pseudo-dribbling. And for an eleven-year-old, who repeatedly reminds us that "we have a little Jimmer on our hands. Baby's shots are on the money."

* Indestructible new vinyl floors which stand up to Code Browns. Also a closet full of cleaning supplies which make the CB's disappear in a timely manner. (On a side note: while I'm thankful for man-made wood-look floors which stand up to constant poop-smearing better than actual wood floors, I'm not overly grateful that I know this from personal experience.)

* Jumping on the tramp with Charlie, who likes to go "fast up" and be chased in circles and curl up on my lap when I need a breather.

* Date night, which shimmers on the horizon. And for Jazmin, a magical babysitter.

* A vintage-y hand-pieced patchwork quilt in yellow, Tiffany blue, and pink from my mom. That she has always taught me about giving and generosity by doing it. For a thing of beauty which a reminds me of her.

* My one functioning vacuum and the locked furnace room where it lives, safely hidden from the death clutches of Jack. It's no Dyson, (in fact, it's a $40 Bissel, snort!) but it still has all it's parts and it can suck. Grateful too for a family-room rug with no cereal, chip crumbs, or ground-in smashed Junior Mints currently underfoot.

* Jeff, who cleans up a pee-pee puddle on the couch while I am dealing with the pee-pee-er.

* Weekends, and their offering of something different than weekday routines.