The Moment You Realize Life is Good...No. It's Great!

Have you ever experienced a moment where you look around and realize that your children are absolutely amazing and you know somewhere in your heart that all those worries and fears about what they might do or not do or become or not become are simply fears that will likely never come to pass?  You know, like the fear that they'll grow to be pole dancers, convicts, corrupt politicians, or some guy with fifteen baby mamas?  It's that moment where you can just tell that there is actually a good likelihood that they'll grow to be good people.  You know somewhere in yourself that they will be able to contribute something to the world, and that they know what love, compassion, and kindness are.  You know this because you suddenly realize that your children actually demonstrate those things every now and then.

It's that moment where you look over at your husband doing whatever it is that he does best to relax (in Byron's case, it's playing the piano for the pure joy of it) and you can't help but be overwhelmed with relief because you know you chose the right guy.  During that moment in time, you know that this partner you've chosen is perhaps the greatest, most perfect choice you've ever made, and while he may show it in his own quiet way, you also know he loves you more than life itself.  He loves you despite the fact that you always shrink his clothes, sometimes burn his dinner, you have those few tiny little teeth on the top of your mouth that don't match the others, your hair gets frizzy, and your flatulence is sometimes overwhelming.

It's in that moment that you look around your home, even with the sticky finger prints on the wall that you're really not sure what it is that caused those prints, and you realize it's a perfect home.  It's a home filled with laughter and contentment.  Okay, there's sibling rivalry there, too. And perhaps a few dishes in the sink.  You feel moderately relaxed and like you belong in your home, and you know somewhere in your heart that this is the home you're meant to be in and the life you're meant to be living in it.  Everything right down to the wimpy  dogs and the snobby cat are just as they should be.  While it isn't picture perfect,  it's as close to Heaven as a person can ever be.

Have you had that moment?  I can't really put my finger on what is different, but I've had that moment this past week.  I've had more than one of those moments actually.  Byron and I went away last weekend without the kids.  One glimpse of life without them was enough for me to actually be wishing for my little poop-smearing Liam and his zest for experiencing life to its fullest extent.  I found myself feeling like my arms were heavy without Drezden coming up asking for a random squeeze.  I discovered that only needing to worry about dressing myself to make it out the door wasn't as peaceful as I'd thought it would be.  I longed for Rachel to come up to me with twenty hair nobbies and beg to have every single one of them carefully placed in her hair at the same time.  Walking on a floor free of lego clutter, while it was less physically painful than when I accidentally step on a lego, was a little boring.  Where was CJ and his amazing lego creations?  Where was his wild imagination and his vivid tales of all that would happen in or with the worlds he created with those silly legos?  Dinner was quiet and content with no food flying or being used as an art supply, but where was Aiden to share his random fact of the day?  I've learned more about the life cycle of various insects, the pooping habits of any living thing you can imagine, and gained trivial pieces of knowledge that would only ever do me good if I were a fifth grader looking to impress a girl.  Dinner without that is simply food on a plate.

The time spent with Byron was well worth it.  Without the distraction of the five small humans that live here, I was able to really focus on Byron and realize just how amazing he is.  I fall a little more in love with him every day, but I found myself freakishly swoony for him almost every time I looked at him.  I also noticed how grateful I am for him.  There wasn't any particular reason for all this other than I just...well, I don't know really. There aren't words for it. I'm just grateful for him.

Since that moment that I realized life is good, it's as if things have only gotten better.  We work more as a team.  The kids don't LOVE doing there chores, but for some reason, they're doing them with minimal argument.  To top it off, they're doing them correctly.  They help set the table, clear the table, clean up whatever disaster Liam has made, sing songs together, come together in the evening for family scripture and prayer, and well...it's just good.

So, have you had that moment?  Am I the only one? Surely not.  Surely others have had that moment where you've just sat back, looked around, and had your light bulb go on, and you say to yourself " My life is good. No. It's great!".