I got home from work yesterday and she was close to tears. From what I could tell from earlier email/phone correspondence, it wasn’t the best day. She was in her running gear ready to go. I was later leaving for home than I wanted to be, and Atlanta traffic reared its ugly head and didn’t help.
Yet after she left and I started making my way around the house on my ‘just got home from work’ routine, I noticed little things she’d done throughout the day. Something rearranged. Another item put back in its place. Some shelves that had grown into dumping grounds cleared off. Previously full laundry baskets were emptied, clothes put away.
I’m never upset if little things don’t get done. Treading water makes sense with our kids at their ages, but she pushes through to do a few little things most every day. I love her either way, but the little things make me smile not so much because she did them for me, but that she sets little goals for herself and gets ’em done.