Happiness is having the house to yourself for the first time in months. It's eating an eggroll and a bowl of cereal for dinner because there is no one else to feed. *Not together, of course, because that would be gross, not happy. It's watching that trashy tv show because there isn't anyone to hear the bad language or see the adult content. It's singing at the top of your lungs, taking over the entire couch, and doing grand jetes across the living room just because you can.
Happiness is the family finally getting home, hearing "Mommy!" like they haven't seen you in a week, getting those sweet little kisses, and talking about the day. It's noise and busyness and engery. It's "can you carry me?", reading bedtime stories, and listening to a three year old recite the Lord's Prayer perfectly.
Happiness is knowing that the next day is Friday. And waking up that next day excited just because it's almost the weekend. It's realizing there are no meetings, wearing white jeans one last time before labor day even when your husband hates them, and lunch plans with the best friend.
Happiness is this:
This girls is happy, happy, happy!
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