The other day as I was helping my tots get into their snow clothes to go outside to play {for all too short a time before coming in to get undressed because it’s cold}, Chloe looked at me and said,
Mommy, my favorite thing about you is your face. It’s beautiful because it always has a smile on it.
I smiled, hugged her and sent her outside, but my heart was full and happy.
And guilty.
Because my face does not always have a smile on it.
My tone isn’t always kind, nor is it always gentle.
I’m not always patient.
I don’t always see the beauty in the mess.
But I’m trying; more often I’m choosing peace.
