Defining a Good Day

Today was a good day.  There’s really no specific reason why – it just was.  As I squeezed in 20 minutes on the elliptical machine this evening I started comparing the “good days” of a decade ago to the “good days” of today.  Oh how times have changed.

Today started off on a high note because we were only 5 minutes late for church.  Ten years ago I would pop one eye open on a Sunday morning, slowly sit up, and pray that I didn’t have a hangover.

By 10:30 AM it was one bazillion degrees outside so we took the tot to the children’s museum for an hour of running, climbing, and train riding.  There were dual purposes for this excursion; first to give him a fun change of scenery, and second to wear him out.  Ten years ago, 10:30 AM was when I woke up.

During junior’s 3.5 hour nap – yay children’s museum – I looked around the house and realized that it was pretty clean.  I was caught up on laundry, I had dinner planned out, and I didn’t have any errands to run.   So I watched reruns and organized a bunch of pictures and videos that had been accumulating on the camera since Christmas.  So boring, yet so productive.  Ten years ago I might have been sitting at the pool not wearing enough sunscreen.

This afternoon we enjoyed a happy, silly, energetic toddler and cheered like tweens at a Justin Bieber concert when he took a bite of his dinner.  Lately dinner has been string cheese and fwoot pouches, so a few mouthfuls of pasta were unexpected and worthy of praise.  Ten years ago I was probably whining to my roommate about some dumb fight my boyfriend and I had.  Today my husband and I only bickered once, very briefly, about the pants he wanted to wear to church.  One minor, short-lived disagreement is a home run.

Today was a good day.  Fortunately I still experience little aspects of my life from ten years ago.  There’s no sleeping until 10:30, but there are happy hours and brunches with the girls and the occasional date night.  It was a little more carefree back then, but I appreciate things in my current life just as much, if not more.  I love when my toddler uses me as a jungle gym, points out the different colors he sees, and finds complete pleasure in putting our loose change in his polka dotted piggy bank.  And let’s be honest, I’m rarely hungover these days.  Kids don’t give a crap if you get home at 2 AM and need to sleep in.  They still want a waffle and their Elmo cup at 7:30 whether you can see straight or not.

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