Happiness is..

No, I won't say a warm gun, though something in me is dying to.

Happiness is the way my son's smile beams in the morning when he looks over at me.
The first sip from the perfect cup of coffee.
Drinking the milk after you've had really good cereal.
Laughing at my husband's humor.
The feeling I have on the day before I have a day off work.
Looking at a beautiful batch of pictures I've just taken and finding my favorites.
Getting (real) mail from someone special and feeling loved.
Running into someone you've genuinely missed and getting a hug.
Being in a different surrounding on a vacation and knowing you have not a single obligation.
Having my husband tell me I'm a good cook.
The first morning it is cold and feels like a proper winter.
Watching my son learn something new.
The way I feel after a great workout.
Date night.
Curling up with a good book and some quiet.
Looking through old cookbooks with my mother in law.
Buying new undies.
Being productive and feeling proud of myself.
Seeing the flowers in my yard bloom year after year.
The cold side of the pillow.
Chocolate.
Good music.

Read more...

What is going on around you right now?

Well, what better time to use to write than at 3:20 am on my day off while my son decides he should be up .. going on two hours now? He hasn't done this since he was a newborn. What the hell?

So I used the imagination prompt generator, a nice tool I so graciously learned of from the stifled artist.

Right now, I am sitting at the kitchen table with old eyeliner under my eyes and a diet 7up by my side.

My TV plays in a hushed tone, some sort of Yu-gi-oh'ish cartoon. The lighting in the living room - a stream of television light flashing in a dark room, makes me all the more lethargic.

My son is floundering about my kitchen (let me remind you, at 3:25 am) playing with a roll of birthday wrapping paper, five plastic toddler spoons, and his magnetic fridge letters. He is arranging the spoons in a color pattern, which impresses me to a great extent. Maybe he's a pattern genius and his best time to work is during the wee hours of the morning and he's getting some serious agenda completed. If that were the case, it's not as if his 2 year old vocabulary would be able to articulate it so well at the moment.

My husband is wrapped up in bed, snoring his happy ass off. Too bad (or not) that I'm the one off work this morning, and he gets to sleep instead of being dragged into the living room by a tiny set of fingers. Held hostage in the kitchen by a mini-us.

"ma-ma, da-da" he mutters, while he sticks the long end of the toddler spoon through the holes of the baby gate.

This is going to be a long morning.
Thank God for my black walls when the sun comes out and he finally decides (I hope) to sleep.

Read more...