"Your flowers look so nice," my across-the-street neighbor called out to me from the rocking chair of her front porch. Her friendly comment made me turn and stop. And look. As my toddler pushed a bubble mower down the sidewalk, I acknowledged the entryway of our new home. They do look nice, I thought.
We've been here a month. April has blown by. This week, I registered my firstborn for Kindergarten. The years have blown by, too.
This afternoon, as news of deadly storms in other parts of the country flashed across the TV screen, my kids and I walked down the sidewalk and played in the backyard. Life is mysterious like that. It made me think about how every day, I have an opportunity to make choices about what's really important. About how happy I really want to be.
So I tried some simple things: I played music while I cooked dinner. I'm writing this blog post on the front porch, while my husband gives our children a bath. It's almost 7:30pm, and it's still daylight.
I'm not sure the wheels of transition ever stop completely. But today, I'm glad I gave myself permission to slow down and enjoy the view.
May flowers, welcome. I'm ready.