As I bent down to pick up those little remnants of the day’s fun, I had to stop and remind myself:
There won’t always be Hot Wheels on my bedroom floor.
Because my heart needs that reminder sometimes.
The reminder to pause.
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Take a breath.
Choose gratitude over frustration.
Soak up the beauty—the undeniably messy beauty—of this season with my kids.
Because seasons come.
And seasons go.
There won’t always be Hot Wheels on my bedroom floor.
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And though I know the next season will be its own kind of magical . . .
What a shame it is that there won’t always be Hot Wheels on my bedroom floor.
Originally published on Kisses From Boys with Krista Ward