I love...

I love the first sip of coffee, libraries, freshly painted nails, people who love my children, and the edges of brownies.

I love 85 degrees in the afternoon, 65 and a light sweatshirt in the evening.

I love being home when my kids aren’t, my son’s therapists, watching my husband mow the lawn as he listens to music, and watching my toddler son follow behind him with his toy lawnmower.

I love college campuses, warm sourdough bread, curious people, when a book keeps me up late at night, vacuum lines on the carpet, airport reunions, high waisted leggings, sage green and soft peach in a color palette, and campfires.

I love when my daughter catches her reflection in the mirror, and smiles.

I love the group Voxer thread that keeps me in touch with the four friends I talk to everyday, that my five-year-old’s belly laugh hasn’t changed since he was a baby, how small I feel next to the ocean, the smell of the air right after it rains, and how my husband looks in his scrubs.

I love being invited to sit on someone’s couch, and then offered a blanket to cozy up with.

I love catching my kids in their imaginary play, the feeling when you finish a bowl of warm soup, a drop of peppermint essential oil in the shower, and when my slept-in hair still looks good (enough) the next morning.

I love being a teacher.

I love being a learner.

I love how excited my kids are to see their dad when he gets home from work, tulips, a good workout, kissing baby cheeks, when my toddler slows down enough to snuggle for just a minute, opening all the blinds in the family room, wood fired pizza, and telling old stories with friends.

I love taking pictures of people smiling when they have no idea I’m capturing them, my daughter’s notes, when the kitchen is finally clean at the end of the day, and when I have all the ingredients for dinner on hand.

I love having written.

I love when I throw a toy from across the room and it actually lands in the basket, watching my kids jump on the trampoline with their dad, that all four of my boys have the most beautiful long eyelashes.

I love Matthew 9:20-22. 

I love shoveling the snow from the driveway when the rest of the neighbors are outside doing the same, how I can’t eat a raspberry without thinking of my papa, that my friend Kelly brings me cherry tomatoes from her garden every August, when my kids are excited to show me something they are proud of, and cheese and crackers.

I love when I haven’t seen a friend in months, but we get together and it’s like no time has passed at all, and when friends know you well enough to tell you “no.”

I love how Cannon gets a big smile on his face when he says something that we understand.

I love finishing.

I love when the house has been quiet for a bit too long and you go look for the kids expecting the worst, but find them playing together.

I love finding old journal entries and realizing as I read them that God is always, always doing more than I could ask or imagine.

I love the first few weeks of a baby’s life when they sleeps peacefully on your chest for hours at a time, and I also love when they are finally old enough to be held on my hip with one arm. 

I love watching athletes win a championship, and then go find their mom in the crowd to sob happily into her shoulder, and I love watching athletes lose a championship, and then go find their mom in the crowd to sob sadly into her shoulder, knowing the result didn’t matter to her anyway.

I love when I’m nursing Braylen and he looks up at me to smile, and a little bit of milk dribbles down his cheek.

I love when I get the giggles in a place that it’s really not appropriate to have the giggles, that a baby has to laugh when they are tickled, and that all my kids want to watch and wait for their brother to get off his special bus after school.

I love that my husband was brave enough to get help.

I love how Harper loves to help her younger siblings, taking communion, picnics, finding a dollar in the pocket of a coat I hadn’t worn since last year, and when strangers stop to help.

I love that when my husband comes home from work and I apologize that the house is a mess, he says, “I don’t care, babe.”

I love when my closest friends still read my words, highlighting, and whispering “I love you” into a dark room and closing the door of the last child awake for the night.

I love how Jordi runs toward me after school with his big backpack bouncing up and down, and jumps in my arms.

I love Christmas lights, and the small houseplant on our fireplace that was a birthday gift two years ago and is still thriving.

I love that the lilac bush in our backyard is always in full bloom around Mother’s Day, jumping off the dock with my kids, and cozy jogger pants.

I love that whenever my dad drops me off at the airport, he still takes out his wallet and hands me $20 in cash for some “walking around money.”

I love my Nona’s spaghetti recipe, and that my mom makes it every Christmas eve.

I love when a sweater hits me right in the middle of my hands, so that I can wrap my fingers around its edges.

I love that Alex calls me every day to tell me how good his leftovers are for lunch, watching Cannon draw castles, iced salted caramel lattes, when all the laundry is finally folded, and how Beckett says “ah-course” when he’s happy to do something I’ve asked him to.

I love Phoenix, Arizona.

I love that we can hear the train ever so faintly in the distance when our house is really quiet, marveling at how the human body can heal, the wall full of family pictures in our living room and how when I make eye contact with Braylen from across the room, he smiles.

I love cheering wildly for others, and being wildly cheered for.

I love being a mom, but not being only a mom.

I love that writing 100 things I love showed me I have a few hundred more to write.

*This post was inspired by Courtney Martin. Want to read more? Here’s some lists from my friends (the ones on that Voxer group!), Ashlee, Sarah, & Sonya.