Choices.

Making choices is easy.  It's the consequences that give us trouble.

I love that my kids are testing the waters in this little microcosm we call Home.  Simply put, home is a school.  A safe place to mess up, make it right, and move forward without judgement, all the while learning that our choices matter.  I firmly believe that happiness is a result of choosing what is good and right.  If I can help my kids discover that truth for themselves when they're young, oh man, that'd be awesome.  For them and for me.

We have good days and bad days.  Set-backs galore.  But we learn through repetition.  Isn't that the human condition?  I need to remind myself of that more often, especially when I think my house is full of little thieves destined for bank robbery.  Your money is not safe here.  Trust me.  You leave a quarter on the counter, BAM, it's gone.  "Wasn't me, wasn't me," they say.  Honesty is the best--and sometimes, overlooked--policy.  But were working on it.  Over and over and over again.

Just to be clear, William (above) wasn't caught thieving.  He didn't do his dish job in the morning and I refused to pick up the slack, so there he sat after dinner, mad as can be, because not only did he have to unload the dishwasher, but he also had to load the breakfast, lunch, and dinner dishes, too.  Not fun.  But I bet he'll think twice, in the future, before heading out the door for school.  At least that's what I hope.

And the best part of all is that I love these kids like crazy, head-over-heels.  Even when they muddle through things.  I muddle too, all the time, and they still love me.  That's the gift of Home.  We're in it together, for better or for worse.