Experiencing Happiness

 A couple weeks ago, smack dab in the middle of the hell that is February (seriously, why do we even have to experience that pointless, dreary month???), I wrote a post.  It was eloquent and witty and substantive and completely and thoroughly negative.

 Nothing but whining and complaining.  Because, I really, really, hate February.  I cannot seem to find any good in it, and I am quite the expert at discovering the bad.  And there always seems to be a year's worth of bad smooshed into what is suppose to be the shortest month of the year. Not to mention we had to endure one extra entire day of February.  Dumb.

 So, I deleted said post.

 Because this blog is really about me handpicking the memories I desire my children to keep forever. Pretty sure the grumpy mom memories are frequent enough that they are permanently cemented into my children's scarred brains, and thus, no real need for them to be put everlasting to paper.

 But March, oh sweet March.  March is the month of blossoming happiness.  Sunshine beaming on the skin and the soul.  And clementines.  Which really are teeny, tiny balls of happiness in and of themselves.

 This afternoon Tessa napped and the children cleaned out the car.  And raked spikey balls.  And ate their weight in clementines. And giggled in the sunshine. And happiness was had.

 Memories I choose to keep in my brain and for my children's benefit on paper.

And that makes me feel powerful; which really, is happiness in and of itself.