Learning Not to Cry Over Spilled Milk

Yesterday was an eventful day, to say the least.

The girls have been sick with an upper respiratory bug, so on top of being two they are extra moody.  So the entire day was a little haywire.. On my way home from school my husband sends me this picture:

Pretty good mani and pedi for a two year old.. right?

Well, one of my girls got a bottle of finger nail polish open and decided she would give herself a manicure/pedicure on the living room couch.  If you just mumbled to yourself, “hmmm, I wonder if the couch was DESTROYED..”, I’m here to tell you IT IS.  You would think hearing this news on your way home from a 3 hour lecture would ignite a certain kind of fury from within.  On the contrary, I actually laughed.  You heard me right, I had a good little chuckle thanks to this little disaster.

I’ve been working on intentional living, if you will.  I’ve been trying to look at trying scenarios with transparent vision, so I can see the light at the end of the tunnel before I’m blinded by the dark.  Because of this, I was actually able to come home and calm my husband down before he busted some blood vessels.  When I saw this picture all I could see was the satisfaction on Kennedy’s face that she did a good job.  Can you see it, too?  That warms my heart like you wouldn’t believe!  I’m astounded by how much they know and are capable of doing {in this case, trying} and by how aware they are of their own wants, motives, and knowledge.  It’s going to take days of baths before it comes off, but every time I see that painted skin, I am blessed with a huge smile.

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