A morning of playing in the park, running around with friends, batting the tennis ball around with kid after kid after kid, and racing down the path, laughing like the preschoolers that we spend our days with.
Collapsing in giggles on the family room floor after a tickle bout with my kids, the preschooler in fits of giggles and the toddler babbling happily, “cud-dles.”
Singing silly Sandra Boynton songs in the car, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the changing leaves, each vista more beautiful than the last. The excited squeals when we pass a construction site, and the happy declaration of my preschooler at the end of the day, “This is an amazing night.” (Was it the 7 hours in the car? Or the dinner at Wendy’s? Oh, I feel like such a good mom after admitting all that.)
Afternoons outside, having adventures in the tree house/rescue center/pirate ship, as the baby goes squealing down the slide — by himself.
Returning home, tired but happy, ever more confident that our family is a team, and that any day can be an adventure.
This, my friends, is the good stuff.