Well today certainly isn't going the way I thought it would. We had a celebratory breakfast planned to ring in the end of the school year and the star of summer. Instead Teddy woke up vomiting at 6 am and proceed to vomit for the next four hours. The day is gloomy and the rain is coming down hard. I've done three loads of laundry and we have an appointment with the pediatrician in an hour.
 And yet, I'm still overwhelmed with gratitude for this day. For Friday. For the summer that is about to start. For these sweet angel babies of mine and a husband I couldn't be more proud of. I'm grateful for the rain and steaming hot cups of coffee. For eager chickens looking for the worm in the mud. For the way Birdie has been bringing Teddy toys and water in attempt to make him feel better. For Belle snoring away on the sofa, her warm body against Teddy's. I'm grateful for the week that is past and most everything that came with it and all the promise that comes with each weekend.
 Sometimes mornings like today are such a palpable reminder of just how little control we have over life. We can sit and diligently build our little house of cards only to have a light breeze collapse it all. It's an opportunity to look up, feel that breeze up against our face and perhaps slow down... a little. I can vacuum later. The laundry can pile up in the closets and be my little secret. Today will be about fuzzy blankets, Chet Baker on the record player, cuddles on the sofa and most probably pizza for dinner. And that's just fine.