Portland winter

I woke up when my toddler forced me to, just like I do every other day. When I say every other day, I mean every two days, because for the most part I take turns with my husband.

While I poured the water over the coffee grounds, and the toddler puttered around, I felt a warmth and calm that doesn’t come around very often. “Wow,” I thought. “I’m happy.”

I was truly glad and content in the moment.

Eventually, the five-year-old got up, and he got a longer hug than usual. I made coffee for my husband and gave him a longer hug, too. “I’m happy,” I said.

An hour later, in the minivan headed to preschool, it hit me.

You dingdong. It’s sunny outside. That’s why you feel good.


Every time.