To dispel this general feeling of malaise, I will do as Bing Crosby advises and "count my blessings instead of sheep."
I have a well stocked rag bin. Having painted multiple surfaces this weekend, I used almost all of them and so had the chance to get them all washed up. Tonight, with my sweet babe fast asleep, I folded them and this brought a feeling of deep contentment. It is so nice to know I have the tools to clean up messes.
For my husband, and our life together. Today he spent 5+ hours cleaning out the garage and then painting it, all because he knew it was important to me. He works so very hard, and I can't imagine that this is what he wanted to do with his day. He did it anyway. He always works hard so that I can be comfortable; he is incredibly good to me and to our daughter. Mr. Oram is definitively the greatest blessing to me.
I have parents who continue to parent and love me, even though I am now grown and married. I didn't realize how much more I would need them now that I am on my own, but I'm so grateful they didn't just shoo me out and leave me be. They are always coming down here, fixing and cleaning, offering advice, cooking, walking the dog while I sleep in - in short, serving me and my family in love. This is such an incredible portrayal of Christ's love, and their willingness to spend their time off taking care of me makes me tear up, honestly. My father, the most hardworking man that I know second only to my own dear husband, runs his own business and yet here he is, hauling down his saws and sanders, working on my projects, making them just perfect - and then driving the 3 hours home and going straight to work. My mother takes time and comes down here, braving my bravado and insufferable know-it-all attitude, and yet still puts all her effort into turning my house into a home - although she spent so many years making a home for me already.
I owe them a debt I can never repay, but I know God sees it and will remember them and their tireless love for their family.
For my friends, especially Jen, who love my child as their own and give her all their love. I would be so much more stressed and sad if I did not have her to hold the baby while I go to the bathroom!
My dear little home. I am so proud to have this sweet house, small and old as it may be, to call my own. I never thought I would own a home before the age of thirty, and I am grateful that I do. I am pleased to be able to fill it with objects, profound and sentimental, and to be queen over my own small domain. It is so nice to have a place to call one's own.
And thank you all for indulging me and for reading. Perhaps someday I will make a serious effort of writing, and if I do, then knowing there are still readers will certainly have helped.