It’s Friday! Oh Happy Day! It has been quite a while since I’ve written for my Oh Happy Day gratitude project. You may recall that I started as a way of making the TGIF statement my own — as a way of consciously incorporating gratitude in my life so that the TG wasn’t just a silly acronym. In my experience, there is no better cure for stress, worries or a case of the down-in-the-dumps than heaping dose of gratitude. The joy that comes from taking stock of the blessings you have right in front of you is powerful.

I learned that lesson from my 6-year-old this morning. Again.

We were walking into school and discussing the day. I couldn’t remember what extra activities he had on Friday. Was it art or music? Little Drummer Boy was quick to confirm art with this commentary…

“I love art. And PE. Because we get to play with hula hoops.”
[insert Mommy smile here]
“I can do magic with the hula hoop. Do you want to hear about it?”

Who in the world could resist hearing about magic with a hula hoop. From MY spectacular first grader. So, of course, I gave him a resounding “yes!”

Little Drummer Boy proceeded to explain. [You’ll be happy to learn that his first grade teacher confirms he is indeed a drummer boy. In math.] He told me how he could roll the hula hoop and make it come back to him. I asked in amazement if he had a magic command to make this happen. He said “no,” that he could just do it. There’s my little magician, all happy and full of expectation about the possibilities of hula hoops and magic on Friday.

I couldn’t help but compare his enthusiasm to my own begrudging thoughts when I first woke up this morning… Ugh. It’s time to get up. I’m so tired today. I’m just not excited about anything today. Sigh. And a plethora of other dumpster attitudes.

Today is Friday. When I think of LDB and his PE tricks, I’m reminded of the magic to be found in each day. In THIS day. This day is another gift with the privilege of three little hearts in my house. Baby Girl dressed in pigtails and her brother’s torn jeans and plaid shirt for “farm day.” Bug all aglow with jets flying toward “vegetable soup” day with saltines in hand. And Little Drummer Boy. With the hula hoops. This day is another gift with the privilege of doing something I really enjoy. And getting paid for it. It’s a day with the privilege of choosing my steps, big and small. Of setting my own schedule from my own little office in my own blessed world. It’s another day with the opportunity to let my best self shine. To do my own bit of magic. To live according to what matters to me. For Friday is TODAY.  And at this moment, TODAY is the only day I have to live. The only day.

So, I think I’ll search down a hula hoop. And it’s magic.
Oh Happy Day!

The rush of holidays at the end of the year always feels like a whirlwind for me. The way Thanksgiving and Christmas meld together in the celebration machine sometimes leaves me no time for transition. I often feel like I need a way to cap off Thanksgiving. With this year’s kicking-and-screaming approach to the 12 Days series focused on giving thanks, it was nice to reacquaint myself with gratitude for those few weeks and to take time to savor some down time with my wonderful gifts before delving into Christmas fun. It encouraged me to look again at cultivating the discipline of thanksgiving week in and week out.

That’s really how the whole Oh Happy Day thing started. I envisioned it as a way of looking at the blessings of each week and acknowledging them on Friday in the tradition of “TGIF.” Only morphed into just “thank God.” It’s a worthy endeavor and I want to revisit it more regularly in the coming months. With that, Oh Happy Day!

Last night we had a time-honored rite of Christmas celebration everywhere. The Christmas Program. Yes, Baby Girl and Bug presented their annual daycare Christmas program slash musical — where musical is not really a musical, but more like an alternating display of stage frightened toddlers and over-exuberant preschoolers. It’s the exuberant part that caught my attention. Oddly enough, this week I’m thankful for The Christmas Program.

Now, I fully realize that the most obvious gratitude-inducers with The Christmas Program would be “Thank God it’s over,” or “Thank God it didn’t last too long,” or “Thank God noone threw up on the stage.” But, as I made my way through the week of fielding questions from Bug about the event, listening to brief and very cute impromptu promos, and hearing “are you going to come and see my Christmas Program?” from him approximately 137 times, his shear exuberance started to take root. I was really looking forward to seeing the result of his hard work and excitement.

Bug had warned me several days ago that he was planning to “sing loud.” Bug does very many things loudly, and having just experienced the Thankgiving luncheon program at the daycare, I knew he was dead serious in his plan. Sure enough, The Christmas Program was NOT a silent night kind of event when his class came to the stage.

Bug was one of the sheep on the hillside. From the moment my little showman took the stage, I could see by the barely contained grin on his face that he was primed for high volume vocals. He looked through the crowd and spotted me with a big smile and his stage presence took over from there. The all-too-brief nap the sheep took prior to the angelic visit was punctuated by Bug’s own stage direction encouraging the rest of his herd to stand up for the next song. His little body was fairly itching to start the hand-motions encouraging us to witness the birth of the Christ child slash baby doll. His face shown with anticipation as his teacher paused in the story narration to queue the songs. Never have I heard a more resounding series of NOELs in response to the angel’s message of good news. It was downright earth-shattering. It’s hard to believe everyone in the Bethlehem Hilton didn’t hear it and rush out to the stable for a bleary-eyed look. The emphatic “Merry Christmas” and wave goodbye at the end showed me that Bug was entirely pleased at his performance and he beamed when I told him I completely agreed.

Thank God for exuberance. It’s so contagious. I’m very grateful for the ability of my four-year-old to maintain exuberance in the silliest of circumstances. And in the most serious of endeavors. Exuberance is engaging. Exuberance is blind to self-consciousness and indecision. It elevates the ordinary into something extraordinary. Exuberance brings pride to something achieved. It acknowledges that a thing is important. Exuberance motivates laughter and tears. It makes me look anew at simple tales and simple truths. Exuberance makes me grateful for having reasons to rejoice.

Oh Happy Day!

Yep. Not a single Oh Happy Day! post all summer long. I started the Oh Happy Day Gratitude project as a way to remind myself to live with thankfulness beyond this day of the week when we usually are all too ready to say “Thank God it’s Friday!” Obviously I’ve been failing.

I’ll admit, I’ve been a bit pouty and ungrateful in the emotional realm lately. I chalk it up to the grieving process that often accompanies seasons of change — even seasons that we welcome or embrace. But, that’s another post I hope to complete soon. For now, I’ve discovered it’s a happy day!

I was reminded with last weekend’s hanging of the scarecrow flag around here that I am indeed willing and able to celebrate the Fall season and all the blessings it brings. I was thinking about a few of those things I’m blessed with and thankful for this week. The chief blessing is the ability to turn over a new leaf. There are those that say “people don’t change,” and I agree that some don’t have the willingness to do so. But, today I’m so thankful that as humans, our minds and hearts CAN be convinced to see things differently, that with the right prodding and reminders and encouragement, we can turn over new leaves. And, not just in this season when leaves are readily changing. It is a tremendous blessing to live life outside of the bounds of instinct or rote. To be able to make up our minds is a wonderful gift God has given. And, to have an openness to shift our view, to see things beyond the circumstantial obvious, to be willing to listen to an a new perspective is one of the best qualities we can nurture in ourselves.

This week, I’ve been making up my mind to embrace possibilities, to move in better directions, to reject the satisfaction with settling, and yes, to celebrate the season of change with the laughter and joy of sweet blessings like Baby Girl, Bug and Little Drummer Boy. Yesterday is gone, and tomorrow is a haphazard quest at best. NOW is here. I don’t want to miss it. I don’t want to miss the sounds of Elmo games on the internet as LDB learns to master a laptop. I don’t want to miss the imagination of Bug that is perfectly ok with pretending “cheetah” starts with “F” for show-and-tell. I don’t want to miss the coy smile of Baby Girl as she requests “hug.” I don’t want to squelch their excitement at pulling out silly scarecrows or orange plastic pumpkins. I don’t want to overlook the kindness and accomplishments of loved ones. I don’t want my own mindset to cause me to miss it.

So, Oh Happy Day! In celebration of October and my new attitude about it, I’m offering a re-post of last year’s “Jack” desktop wallpaper sporting this year’s calendar. I love it because the jack-o-lantern photo by a 4yo Little Drummer Boy makes me smile. And the silly “peek-ee-boot” of a 2yo Bug reminds me of how quickly they are learning and growing. I don’t want to miss it.

Little Drummer Boy and I saw this little long-eared guy in the driveway this week. We’ve been spying him around the neighborhood for several weeks, particularly in the side lawn across the street. When we saw him hop across the concrete, we were glued to the living room glass. I scrambled to get the camera and to keep LDB from bounding out the door to get closer to him. Without any startling movements from us, the rabbit munched for a few minutes on our grass and the dandelions. Then, he hopped to the neighbor’s yard and out of site. Little Drummer Boy raced to the porch to see him again, but he was gone. I’ve been thinking about the little guy ever since.

In trying to narrow down this week’s Oh Happy Day gratitude project report, my mind keeps wandering back to the bunny on the lawn. For some reason, getting to see something so common, but so special, in our own front yard stuck with me. He’s inserted himself into my week quite often. So, I suppose I’m thankful for him and some of the random thoughts he’s inspired–gratitude gifts from the rabbit in our driveway.

I’m thankful for large lots. At least the lots of the houses around our neighborhood. It’s so nice to see green space and the life it inspires and attracts. Spring settles in with a renewed awareness and interest in this greenscape–the buds and blossoming it produces. That life is often contagious. Something about the living relief from pavement and hard edges brings relief to my spirit, a raveling of the edges that may have hardened in my thinking.

I’m thankful for nature’s playfulness displayed right in my own front yard. The newness and continued thriving–the hopping–of bunnies right before my eyes is a welcomed sight. It mimics the jumping and hopping and running so often displayed within my walls and in virtually every available outdoor space as well. It’s a joy to take our cues from the random acts of nature’s flora and fauna and just play. Without wondering why. Without keeping time. Without knowing the score.

I’m thankful for green pastures. They get a bad rep sometimes, but I’m thankful for the ability to see greener pastures. Who knows why the rabbit crossed the road? Why he crossed the concrete to choose one patch of grass over another? But, I’m all for recognizing the difference between green pastures and concrete. A conversation with a friend a few weeks ago reminded me that we sometimes have to discipline ourselves to value the greener pasture, to strive for the higher ground, to seek the better options. Especially when we’ve learned to subsist in the pavement.

I’m thankful for chasing. Little Drummer Boy’s urge to fling open the door and swing back the screen to chase after this wonderful rabbit was automatic. He does it with birds. He does it with dandelion parts. He and Bug and Baby Girl so easily follow after the spectacular. They haven’t learned to restrain themselves or limit themselves or question it. They haven’t learned to worry that they might scare it away. I so envy that full-hearted chase at times.

I’m thankful for weeds. For all their prolificness, they are at least a sign of fertile ground. The rest is all in the cultivating.

I’m thankful for zoom. With the help of technology, I was able to stand in the living room and get a close-up view (and memory) of the bunny gracing us with his presence. It was a perspective I couldn’t have gotten otherwise. There is a similar refreshing opportunity when we choose to reduce the distance between our hearts and the things and people that matter to us. It’s sometimes a scary process, but a special blessing to draw closer. To adjust our focus and see with fresher eyes the situations that are causing frustration or creating impatience. To look past what is meaningless or distracting. To choose to embrace what we love. To choose to lay aside what holds us back.