Boys to Men

What a difference a haircut makes - They aged before my eyes.

Stay babies.

You Won't.

You are little boys now.

Sniffle.

Blessed

A Facebook friend of mine who I recently became acquainted with wrote one of those Notes on her page. I know she is an avid reader. And from some of her Notes and other things, I know that she recently lost her Mom and she has a disabled son. She is a lovely lady and I pretty much liked her instantly. I think you can see genuine in people. Anyhow, I was reading these Notes - all of which touched me - and she was doing one of these "completing the sentence" exercises and she wrote:

I have a low tolerance ... for people that have been blessed, and are unaware of it.

She is so right it hurt me to my core today. I don't know why this got to me today. I used to keep a journal of things I was thankful for. Why did I stop that? Why do I complain about the sniffles, and the helmet, and the stupid pediatrician, those last 15 lbs, living in Pomona (bleck ;)) and so many other lame things...

I am blessed: J, Lulo, Juju, Jojo, My Parents (alive and well). What else do I need?

I am often aware of how blessed I am but it seems to be overshadowed by all the "stuff" that needs doing. Today, I was really aware...there were signs everywhere to stop and breathe the blessings.