It is January. The temperature is in the single digits. Springs dangles like a rope, just out of reach. I am on my second (so far!) period of the month (I believe I am compensating for Andrea's pregnancy scare. Our uteri have been in cahoots for at least a few years. I am happy to take one for the team, but not sure that I really needed two doses of PMS this month).

But I have a clean desk!

I've been working on making small, consistent changes in my home. Deal with the mail every day. Deal with the dishes every day. Basically, deal. Every. Day.

Am I happier for it?

I think I am. If not overjoyed, I am at least feeling more peaceful. Like I can breathe. The other day, a friend's husband came over to pick up some baby gear we were done with. He was supposed to come around noonish; instead, the doorbell rang at just after 7a.m. But! I was dressed! The house was reasonably clean (full disclosure: our monthly housekeeping had occured the day before, but still!)! It wasn't until after he left that I realized the lack of panic I felt when the doorbell rang. Last month around this time, he might've found himself tripping over toy cars, stepping on small piles of Cheerios, and I would probably have been in my dirty monkey pajama pants and a stained nursing tank. It felt good to not panic.

So this experiment is going well thus far. I've also just been, like Andrea, doing little things to make myself happier. Listening to music more (Lana Del Rey is my current obsession). I even went to the movies twice this month. I've been wearing jewelry. I am, basically, taking it up a notch. February's goals will be even more of that.

And sometimes, like the lack of panic over early visitor incident, something bad not happening can bring happiness. See below picture of my daughter making her I'mGonnaPoopintheBathtub face. But guess what? She didn't! And I was happy!