Thankful Thursday: Sunsets, Children To Watch Them With and Friends Who Inspire Us to Live Our Best

Today I cleaned my house. I cleaned it with enthusiasm and even a hint of joy. Then I sat with my son and listened to him tell me about the first four original Superman comics. At about 8:20 p.m., I loaded my jammie-clad children in the van and chased the sunset west. We found a perfect view, parking on the edge of a dirt road next to a vast sunflower field, just newly blossomed, and watched the sun slip below a distant line of trees. Of course, the mood was interrupted more than once with "I'm thirsty," "I'm hot" and "I want to go home." But we endured, returning home radiant and playful and together.

I love sunsets...they are one of my all-time favorite things. We all want to live like this everyday, fully and freely. What would it be like to live life with open arms and open hearts...to chase sunsets and other spectacular things...to walk in the woods...to smile because you can? I am so so thankful for the dearest of friends who's kind words were enough to inspire the very best in me today. Thank you for remembering who I am even when I forget!

Keep the Field Guide in the Circle!

If you have read the Spiderwick Chronicles or indulged in the movie, like us, you would know the necessity of keeping the Field Guide within the protective circle. It is critical to your survival. My children know this well. In spite of their knowledge of pixies, sprites, trolls, goblins and such, they persist in taking their own copy of Arthur Spiderwick's Field Guide, outside of the barrier...a mistake I myself have warned them about. A few weeks ago, they and the neighbor girls, who are also well aware of the dangers, unwarily carried the Field Guide out of the protective parameters encircling the house. They had taken all the necessary precautions of salting the windowsills and packing plenty of tomato sauce, besides the crackers and honey, but somehow forgot the enchanted circle. I was busy doing dishes when I paused to look out the window, then ran to the back door. "Whatever you do," I yelled, "don't take the Field Guide outside of the circle!" They looked up at me with shocked, somewhat guilty expressions. I actually was hoping to get a laugh out of them. Sophie was the first to confess, "We dropped it in the pool, it's all wet." This was too perfect. I couldn't help but indulge myself in the game, and hopefully salvage it for the kids who were a little down about the shape of the book. "That's what happens," I playfully scolded, "when you take the Field Guide out of the circle. It was the goblins, wasn't it?" They took the bait without skipping a beat, explaining breathlessly and in detail the great struggle that took place between them and the goblins and how the book had finally ended up at the bottom of the inflatable kiddy pool, giggles, sparkling eyes and knowing grins ensuing. The book was gently laid out to dry in the sunshine, happy children, happy mama, savoring the pure joy of make-believe, all still quite certain that we have heard skittering in the walls.