This morning – light pouring into the house, roses and coffee, before I headed upstairs to play with and read to the girls.
Yesterday was one of those days that I wouldn’t call a successful day. Rather, a day where I was not proud of myself. The beginning of the week, in fact, just seemed to go all wrong. And you know, if you’ve ever had a bad day, once it starts, it keeps rolling and it’s so hard to change it, to start over. Where I just wished for the day to be over quicker as if, if it ends, then it’ll be better the next day. (Side note: I’m not one in the habit to wish days to go by quicker. I feel that the day you wish to hurry up and end can be a monumental day for a baby in their life- that day you wish never was could be the day a huge milestone happens. Each day is huge in one’s life…)
Anyway, I complain to Peter of course. The only person I ever really tell the full picture with emotion and all. He’s been going to work super early this week, to drive to Colorado City, so I’m sure he’s tired and exhausted from work and the longer drive, but he managed to stop at the store and brought home cake, roses, and a book for Jemma. (The Bear and The Piano.)
And after talking and sharing, and him sharing what he’s been listening to- my heart melted and everything was alright and things just looked brighter. The day ended on a high note.
Peter has been listening the the audio book called, Bringing Up Girls, a book I have in print. And my heart melts that he reads and cares and desires to apply the things he learns. That he appreciates and thanks. And most of all, that he is a man who instead of putting coals on a fire, instead of blowing up a bigger storm, he calms that “storm.” That when he comes home it’s better. He makes peace and tranquility. And that makes me melt inside. That makes me beam.