Why I Love It

Sometimes I miss these people:



And this place:



So much that it makes me hurt.

They'll all be together tomorrow.

And I won't.

I won't get to hold little Cormac or commiserate with Katie who's about to have another baby of her own (at this point, days away from delivery, the woman needs commiserating with). I won't get to see Ruben in his snazzy new glasses or try to tease one of Isaiah's impish smiles out of him. And I won't be able to see my nieces.

How I love my creative charming nieces.

I'll miss out on all of the laughter and teasing and amazing food.

I'll miss out.

I've decided that I need to make a choice. A choice to be grateful for where I live. There are a lot of really great things about living here. It's time I celebrate them instead of mope around, missing it all.

So today's my first day: I'm starting Why I Love It Wednesday. (See what I did there? Now that took brain power.)

Here's the first main reason why I love it here:

Adam

He's from here. Through him, I feel connected. His job's here.

He's here.

So I am too (although I'd follow him anywhere he went).

Last night all five of us were laying side by side in our bed (I was happily sandwiched between my two sons who let me put my cold feet on their warm feet...I love people like that). Adam read Winnie the Pooh to us. We read about Tigger coming to the Hundred Acre Wood. Mark was fidgeting around and not for the first time, someone remarked that Mark is Tigger.

Then we decided who everyone else was. Emma is a mix of Piglet and Rabbit. Braeden is sweet like Pooh but also a little bossy like Rabbit. They decided I am either Eeyore or Kanga (I think it depends on where I am on the grumpy/benevolent mother continuum. And Adam?

He's Christopher Robin.

In all of the stories all of the animals, when they really need help or wisdom or comfort, they go to Christopher Robin.

Years ago I decided to make a quilt for Emma. I love the process of quilting. The piecing? Not so much. My grandma was visiting and she helped me cut perfect little squares for a nine patch quilt. She helped me start to sew them.

She went home.

That's when things got dicey. I got all the squares sewn together in quilt blocks and I lay them on my bed. None of them were the same size. My seams were crooked and variable enough that there was no way the blocks would go together. I rolled the whole thing up in a ball and vowed never again! I should have realized my limitations. If anything has to be exact, I am not the girl.

That night, after I had gone to bed, Adam pulled out the blocks and carefully cut them all to a congruent size. The quilt ended up being a little smaller than I'd planned because the blocks had to be smaller but Adam, Christopher Robin, had saved the day.

Last night I was showing Adam a project on the computer that I've been working on. It's been taking up so much time that I am ready to be done with it and send it on its way. I showed my good-enough finished product to Adam and he started pointing out ways that it could be improved and ways that it was not acceptable to his perfectionist eyes.

My agitation and despair grew. I wanted to be done with it! I didn't want to go back and make all those teeny little changes.

Adam could sense the ticking bomb next to him. He said in his best soothing voice, "Go get ready for bed. I'll fix this."

He's like one of the elves in the Elves and The Shoemaker, he does his best magic when I'm asleep because this morning it's all fixed, perfect and ready to go.

Yes, I would go wherever Adam went. Happily.

To the moon and back.