Ferns.  Geraniums.  Impatiens.  Somehow, these showy but modest little plants singlehandedly transform my front door and back deck each year from a dreary winter landscape into a warm and inviting place to just “be.”  I’ve never been this late in putting them out before — usually, I’m pushing the frost date by several weeks — and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to do so this year.  But, out there they now are, warming my heart and making me smile.

Edy’s Grand Special Edition Thin Mint Cookie ice cream.

Just when you thought there wasn’t any improvement to be made on the world’s best cookie, Edy’s goes and proves you wrong.

I’m fine with being wrong. Totally, utterly and completely fine with it.

A husband who will drop everything — including his work — to allow his wife to go off to a birth. He has every right to say “this doula thing sucks,” because it does, for him. But that he still understands that I need to do this and is willing to drop things at a moment’s notice so that I can? Is appreciated more than I can put in to words.

Thank you, Tim. Thank you.

A home-cooked meal.  A bag of children’s clothes.  A box of crayons, a pad of paper, and a pair of scissors.  An hour watching the kids.  A stroll around the block with my dog.  Two new blankets for the kids to snuggle under and love.  An invitation to lunch.  Well wishes and thoughts.  And a minute to cry, finally.

Thankful, indeed.  And blessed beyond words.

A well designed coffee maker. This has nothing to do with a carafe that dosn’t leak and everything to do with a drip catcher that goes way beyond the call of duty. The drip catcher, you see, catches far more than just drips.

I’ve proven this morning that it will catch an entire cup of coffee if some weary, hassled, husbandless-for-days mother — who shall remain completely anonymous — turns the coffee-maker-by-the-cup on, without actually putting a cup underneath the flow of coffee.

Said coffee maker skillfully handled the surprise with nary a complaint, turning what otherwise would have been a huge mess into a moment of levity.

I wish the same could be said about the anonymous mother.

A babysitter, twice a week, throughout the summer.Although it required pivoting on a dime in order to respond to being unceremoniously dumped by the first sitter, and still more finagling when the second sitter returned to her full time job in mid-August, it has still made all the difference in the world.

Last year at this time? You could have put me in a straight-jacket. This year? I’m a little sad to see it coming to an end.

I took the road with the babysitter, and it has made all the difference.

The Raleigh Little Theatre.
Four tickets to four family series performances for under $150. Richly
costumed, creatively set, and acting and singing that only leaves a little to be desired, if anything all. Sunday afternoons spent in suspended reality. The Raleigh Little Theatre has it all.

The
only problem? Deciding whether to watch the play, or watch my children
watching the play. Hours of heart-warming entertainment, both — but
the edge must be conceded to watching the kids. Eyes wide open, jaws
slack, shoulders tensed, and bodies leaning ever-so-slightly toward the
stage in involuntary fascination, their performance was enough to steal
the show.

Thursdays.

That’s when we get our delivery of fruits and vegetables from our CSA.
The waxed cardboard box, folded shut, always reveals upon opening a
bountiful surprise. Peaches. Berries. Corn. Tomatoes. Cucumbers. A
little something different every week.

Last winter, when we
purchased a share in this farm, my expectations were entirely rational
– a box of food, grown locally and organically, each week. Little did
I know the joys those boxes would bring: the anticipation that rises as
each Thursday approaches, the excitement that bubbles up upon opening a
box, the spirit of adventure that comes from trying new recipes and
foods, and the comforting sense of connection I get from touching,
handling, and eating foods raised “right down the street.”

Each
Thursday, I receive a box. That it’s full of food is of no particular
surprise. That it’s full of spiritual sustenance? Something to be
thankful for, indeed.

One brand new Coffeemaker. No more mess, no more spills, and one cup of coffee hot enough to stay warm until the last drop. If I can’t be given the time to enjoy a cup of hot coffee for Mother’s Day, getting a cup of coffee hot enough to enjoy over time is the next best thing.

Gifts of toasters and coffeemakers might be the death knell of a relationship in your book — a sign that meals shared in silence and evenings spent in la-z-boy isolation are on the near horizon, but not in my book. In my book? A gift of a coffeemaker represents perfect understanding and empathy. Downright sexy, I say.

Now, just what that says about me? I shudder to think. That’s one for Things That Make You Go Hmmm.

Yoga. In a time in my life when things are getting decidedly out of control, I’m grateful for Yoga. Tell me, folks, what other form of exercise includes arriving in flip-flops and finishing with a nap — separated by a good ass-kicking in between?