Sometimes It's the Little Things
Or, as my husband and I would put it, "What was your happy thing today?"
Like many people, I’ve been cycling between hope and anxiety a lot over the last month (ye gods has it only been a month?). I’m a firm believer that one of the best ways to conquer the feelings of overwhelm (besides stepping out of the news cycle, which I’m doing on the regular) is to ground yourself. Remind yourself that you’ve got a place in the universe and you’re not alone. (Sidenote: have gotten a little further in Rebecca Solnit’s A Paradise Built in Hell. It’s amazing and there’ll definitely be a post about it coming soon.)
Over the last few days, as I’ve been taking a breath from calling my Senators and scrutinizing my buying habits and signal-boosting, I feel like the universe has gifted me with a few reminders that despite all the scary stuff that’s happening, home is still home, community is still community, and life is beautiful.
In no particular order:
I saw my first ever hummingbird nest yesterday. SO TINY. I thought it was a tiny paper wasp nest at first until I saw Mama Hummingbird take a seat in it.
My family was invited to two different gatherings this weekend at the homes of new, neurodivergent, alternative-education-adjacent friends. It was so refreshing to be able to just show up, own my awkwardness, and know that my kids would be supported in being themselves without judgment.
Because my Nissan LEAF’s battery was still under warranty (for another month), I was able to get it replaced for freeeeeeee. (huge executive function dopamine boost!) AND the bike rack that I bought for my children’s ever-larger bikes WORKS. And so today we took bikes to the park and my five-year-old had a two-and-a-half-hour playdate with a school friend. That’s still a big deal for him.
Yesterday, after spending the morning watching Eras Tour videos at a Taylor Swift Valentine’s party full of neurodivergent kids, my kids spent the afternoon racing leaf boats in the gutter with a neighbor kid we’ve known since he was born. Make new friends and keep the old, indeed. Impromptu neighbor community is like nothing else.
I’m familiar enough with the local flora now that when I took R outside this morning to blow off some steam, I was able to—at a glance—pluck out the one weed I don’t allow to grow in my yard (burr clover, from hell’s heart I stab at thee!). My naturalist brain was so pleased with itself.
My long-neglected worm bin—a legacy of pandemic hobby life—was knocked over by the kids today and against all odds proved to contain LIVE WORMS. I was amazed. The last time I did anything with it was easily four years ago. But life is a persistent and amazing thing.
And on that note, my wonderful, amazing S turned eight and a half today. The kid who climbs to the top of anything she can find, who loves Taylor and chess and math and teen girl magazines. I can’t wait to see what she’s going to do next.
What were your little sparks of joy this week?