My House is a House...

What a woefully poor job I have done at keeping this blog up, or for following up on my "big plan." It isn't that it's been out of mind, though. I will not say that I haven't made progress. It just isn't as much progress or necessarily the kind of progress I intended. The plus: I have been increasingly better about spending spare moments in cleaning up little areas. It's helping, too. The house isn't spotless, but it's cleaner. Many areas that I straighten up actually stay neater. It's much easier to sweep through and clean up clutter when it hasn't stacked so high. So, one for me.

February was supposed to be to take care of me - doctor appointments, etc. Well, that hasn't happened. I did find a NAMI group and attended one meeting. It was inspiring, and it gave my soul a rest, and I will go back regularly. So that's a little bit of health stuff. My current plan is to extend that goal into March. My resolution will be for one walk a day, at least 10 minutes. For 30 days, I can do that.

Now, the subject of my post. It feels like I'm getting closer to understanding and accepting me, meaning it's time to drop a lot of the "I should" ideas and recognize and appreciate what I have. Fairly frequently an idea pops into my head that says, "I'm a person who ..." This morning, that thought was about my house. It came from a moment yesterday when I was getting ready to start dinner and was anticipating the fun I'd have putting the meal together. Reviewing that moment, my thought this morning was, "My house is a house that usually smells good at dinner time." I like the evening meal. Yes, the kids can be crabby, and there aren't as many manners as there could be. Voices are often loud and enthusiastic. Conversation is not peaceful or quiet. But I've prepared food that I've put a lot of thought into and the family is gathered all in one spot, generally enjoying it. It is the only time of day that all of us are together. We're not all cheerful or fun, but we're together, and the shared moment is important. I want the family to anticipate good meals, that's my gift to them. Someday, they'll remember being there and eating that food. I want it to be special.