I pick up 17 single socks throughout the day and immediately start to get annoyed at the fact that no one can find the laundry chute.
But I stop. I’m so thankful for the 10 feet that live in this house and the socks that cover them.
I look at the two-ton pile of laundry that awaits me each day and start to tense up and get angry at how it never ends.
But I stop. I’m so thankful for the 5 people in this house that wear all these clothes and have the ability to get them dirty.
5:00 comes around and it’s time to make dinner. I don’t feel like it. I love to cook but sometimes I don’t wanna make dinner.
But I stop. I’m so thankful that I have 5 people to feed, that we have money for food, that we are able to eat.
During dinner, I am sometimes appalled at the way Olivia eats her dinner, or the way Matthew won’t sit still, or the fact that Gabe sometimes forgets to chew with his mouth closed.
But I stop. I’m so thankful the 5 of us are sitting down to dinner together every night. That there is healthy, delicious food on the table. That we are talking about our days together. Gentle reminders to use manners are just fine. No big deal.
I just want to be left alone to read my book/write my blog/stare at the walls, but you want my attention. I don’t want to play a game/read a book with you/listen to your story right now.
But I stop. I’m so thankful you want to talk to me. Play with me. Be with me. So I do.
I just want to stay in bed all day and hide. I’m tired, I’m depressed, it hasn’t stopped raining in days.
But I stop. There are 4 people downstairs who love me. Who need me. Who want me to come and join their day.
So I do.