Not Inconsolable

December 3, 2015 was the fifth anniversary of my father's death. Leading up to that date my sister, mother, aunts and I were a weird bundle of nerves. Anniversaries are odd that way.

Lots of anticipation.

I'd imagined that I'd wake up this ball of tears who was inconsolable for hours.

That did not happen.

Per my usual morning habits...I got out of bed, grabbed a cup of coffee and hit Facebook.

First order of business was to pay tribute to the man who gave me the two greatest gifts: My life and my husband.

I did not cry.

I was not inconsolable.

In fact, it felt like my last birthday...just another day.

The lead up was so much worse.

Lesson...

All the worry in the world did nothing but make me miserable.

I am not usually a worrier

In fact, I tend to go the other way. I've been around the block enough to know that worrying seldom produces anything positive and is less than productive.

I tend to take this attitude with my kids when we are home.

They pretty much have free reign of the house and, unless they are doing something blatantly wrong, I can usually repair the damage or clean up the spill.

Spills are something that happens with three-year-olds.

They are curious and learning new things daily so they get into things they shouldn't.

If you have kids you know that silence is typically a VERY bad sign.

Well, the other day I was up in the office designing posts for Facebook for my job and suddenly realized that I didn't hear anything.

I stopped typing for a moment and just listened.

Laughter! Aaaaaaah. The glorious sound of laughter!

Wait!!! What were they laughing about?

I headed downstairs to find them standing on chairs in front of the kitchen sink, water on, sprayer in hand, puddles on the floor, the two of them soaked but giggling hysterically.

It was impossible not to laugh.