(That’s what she said.)

This week, The Husband and I solved the pre-church stress ritual by not going, which is sometimes what showing grace to yourself looks like. It also looks like a walk into our suburb’s downtown area, lazily strolling as a family.

God, in all his vastness and kindness, can be worshiped anywhere.

But last week, in the midst of the Ralph Lauren/Prevacid/spit-up debacle, as TH crammed The Kid into his carseat and I wiped down the kitchen like I do, we hustled to get out the door, and with a pump in one hand and a diaper bag in the other, I whined to myself and anyone else who would listen: “Why does everything have to be so much harder?!”

Gear. Loads and loads of gear fill our lives now, like the loads and loads of laundry that fill the machine every third day, TK’s clothes rising from the grave of dampness and stains. Strollers, plastic bottles, hooded towels, burp cloths, dirty diapers, extra outfits, wipes. The list of things Not to Forget before walking out the door has grown exponentially from the days of wandering out of my New York City apartment with wallet, cell phone, water bottle. There is another life to think about now–his and ours.

And as we walked this weekend, TH pushing the Bob now and my hands free, I considered that what I had labeled as more difficult might not, through gratitude’s eyes, be defined by such limiting terms. Yes, there’s all the gear. And there is the steadily (and thankfully) growing body, the cheeks outpacing it all with their horizontal bottoms resting on his chest. There is, also, the sound of his breathing and sighing, which I can only imagine makes the angels giggle with glee as much as it makes me do the same. There’s the sound of his cry, but then there’s blessing there too–because wasn’t I admitted early to the hospital, preterm contractions igniting the fear of unprepared lungs, and the steroid shot to prevent that problem having clearly worked? Then, miracle of miracles, the smile we waited so long for, the lazy grin first thing in the morning paired with arms stretching to heaven.

We went out to dinner for the first time as a family on Saturday night, early-bird special at 5:30 pm, and sat at a two-top outside with TK in his stroller beside us. TH and I shared cheese dip and glances at TK and thoughts on it all being a success, then we walked to the yogurt shop nearby. Two high school couples were on a date, the girls nervously patting their hair and adjusting their (too-short) dresses, the guys trying and failing to play it cool. My family and I ambled back to our car, where we would have to eject the car seat from the stroller, place the car seat back into the car, return the stroller to the trunk, and do the reverse when we got home. I realized as we walked, a trio, that there are logistics…and then there is life. And a life that seems to have gotten harder? May just actually be fuller.