Gratitude

Dear Self,

Six months ago, while completely, fully nine months pregnant, you were down on your hands and knees, scrubbing the grout on the tiled kitchen floor, and you wondered, "Why?  Why? are you scrubbing the grout?  The baby doesn't need clean grout?!  Oh well... carry on."

Today, as six month old Lucy rolls around on it, spits up on it, and keeps her sweet little face close to it's clean coolness... I'm thankful for the "craziness" of that decision.

Carry on you "crazy" girl.  Crazy like a fox.

Love,
you