At this moment . . .

. . . my house is literally in shambles. Tile and laminate were recently laid, but carpet is still not in. We have dust, saw dust, dirt, grime, and piles of junk. One floor waits to dry, so that we can seal it. One room waits for said floor to dry, so that quarter-round can be put back on and then sanded and repainted and cleaned. Same floor waits for carpet, so that transitions, etc. can be further laid. One toilet, accompanied by a washer and dryer, as well as one precious baby's toys, occupy my family room.

Did I mention that my house is in disarray??--utter and complete chaos???

And yet, cherry and pumpkin pie permeate the walls of my home. A now brining turkey sits on the bottom shelf of my fridge--soaking in deliciousness for tomorrow. My refrigerator shelves are crammed with whipping creams, vegetables, stuffing favorites, nuts, fruits for the salad, mouth-watering bread, yummy ice cream in all of its Blue Bell glory, and sparkling grape juice. One little monkey baby smiles at my feet, waiting for me to kiss his wonderfully smooth and soft cheeks. While waiting, he stands up next to the desk, bouncing, laughing, wiggling, and squirming. Two bigger monkeys giggle in their room; I know, because I can hear them through the wall. One amazing husband slumbers after running a bazillion errands for me. To the left of my desk sits a cardboard playhouse the boys and I built today. We spent two hours coloring our hearts out.

Said bigger monkeys helped create and bake previously-mentioned pies. While one created, mixed, blended, beated, filled, and baked pie, the other hit the town on a "daddy date."

I have not showered today and I sit here in my air-conditioned home in the same clothes I put on first thing this morning.

Tonight before I go to bed, I will bake one more pie with my dearest, while he makes me laugh until my sides hurt. I will read scriptures with my family and kneel together in prayer with them. Children will be tucked into warm beds, dressed in comfortable pajamas, and I will probably soak my tired feet and legs in a hot, over-sized bath, curled up with a copy of the Book of Mormon. During that time, I will most likely hear from a beloved friend or family member by means of text. Before retiring to bed, I will record random thoughts and moments of the day, funny things my children said (like when we asked David about his favorite part of Thanksgiving and he responded with, "I like Christmas better."), and new aspirations, as well as a to-do list, in my journal. Then, I will offer gratitude and supplication to the Lord with my eternal companion. Most likely, he will look at me with those eyes that see deep down into my soul, that let me know that he sees the good in me, that he loves me regardless of my faults, and that will always see me as beautiful. He will embrace me and kiss me with a passion that I didn't realize could still exist after 8 years of marriage. We will go to bed--laughing and discussing things of the day, things to come tomorrow, and the many worries/questions that perplex my mind. Of course, he will answer and patiently listen, as I vent, unload, unwind, fall apart, get excited, or over analyze. Yes, he'll listen, offer his advice, lend his support, and then, afford me his faith.

Truly, I am blessed beyond measure. The house will still be in shambles this night. That endless pile of laundry will still sit on my couch, because I cannot currently access all of the dressers and drawers. A blue tarp with a toilet on top of it will sit in my great room. A disassembled crib will collect dust a little longer and my baby will sleep in the port-a-crib yet another night.

But I will remember that life is good. On this night, I will remember that I chose to focus on the important things: family, things of a higher law and power, and all of the blessings in my life.