Small Success Thursday

Last week, somehow I didn't feel up to posting. Everything felt flat so I didn't and I realize that was a mistake, compounding the malaise that was my mood. Small triumphs mean just that; searching for victories amongst the piles of laundry and bills. Like looking for grace, these triumphs require that we seek even when emotionally, we're just not in the mood to look.

Lesson learned. I won't skip again. Now, on to this week:

This week:

1) I took Faith's first communion dress to be fitted. There were ten foot high drifts in the parking lot as we navigated two toddlers and the baby with two dresses and a very excited second grader to the bridal shop where they would do the alterations. My daughter Regina, a.k.a. the almost three year old sphinx, walked in, looked at the sparkles and beads and dresses and stopped. Her eyes widened. "Mom," she said, "This is beautiful." That sentence alone made the hassle of the two story spiral staircase past the chain smoker to get to the shop worthwhile.

2) The engine came for the shop vac and I fixed it! Mechanics not being my strong suit, this was cause for celebration as the Mommy and her machine were back in sync with one another and I once again could vacuum the floors with swift noisy accuracy.

3) Last year I didn't make it to Ash Wednesday mass because Paul was too young and too frail in my eyes to be taken out any more than absolutely necessary. The year before, I hadn't gone because I had three at home and was expecting Paul. The year before that, I'd opted not to go because it wasn't an obligation and surprise surprise, Lent the last three times, although fruitful, has been harder without the kick off start of Ash Wednesday mass. So this time, we went to the school mass and my husband went downtown, and everybody got ashes this year.

4) I've enlisted my daughter to cue me by saying "Mary," the woman I'm supposed to imitate when the practical gritch acts up. Last night, the shower stall doors came off their runners.
As indicated earlier, repair work is not my forte but I was not going to have my shower falling apart. So I hacked and pushed and examined and tinkered and I was getting very frustrated. My daughter was toweling off Paul for me and watching. "Mary" she said.

"Yeah. I know. Mary." I groused. "But I bet Mary didn't have to struggle with stupid plexiglass doors. Besides, even if she had, she could have called her husband the carpenter and said, "Fix it." Eventually, the doors succumbed to my brute force and fixing finesse.

Don't know if you have a victory in your past week? Start seeking! You'll find it. Then, post it and link over at Family and Faith Live!

*P.S. If you noticed that I've started using my actual children's names, it is an intentional decision: when the story is 100% true, it deserves to be celebrated for what it actually is and remembered with 100% accuracy.  All other times, the stories are inspired by but not necessarily limited to the reality of raising all these alarmingly interesting people.