What is that smell?

The other night I came home to a smell that any parent dreads. The smell of poop. I walked into the house to be odor assaulted by the smell. I look and reacted like a sea anemone in a fraction of a second actually. There he was my son covered in poop! Trying frantically to clean it up. My question was ..."where is the sister in charge?" "Why did this get out of control as compared to any other time?" But the most important question was the one that to this day, three days later, I can not answer! HOW DID HE GET POOP ON THE WALL IN SUCH A MANNER?

After cleaning it all up and taking care of the rest of the issues. I laughed. I cried and was angry at myself, my angry outburst at my teenager, my chosen words of affection, my burst of disgust and disdain for cleaning poop.

Had to go out for a walk. There were tons of thoughts running through my mind. My heart was racing from the event of Poop du jour and the pace at which I went for a walk.
Wait there was a another smell. That dusty smell that reminds me of back to school. The smell of decomposing leaves. I paused for a moment to look up at the young maples that lined my street. Yes, it was happening. Fall was really here. The maple leaves were changing colors. They were falling to the ground and I was walking through them. I love fall as it is such a monumental season of change for me. Always seems to have been. Summer is great fun and winter is comfy, while spring is full of promise. Fall on the other hand is change, a promise of things changing, something different. Different in myself, in my thoughts, in my days, in my loved ones. Different is a good experience for me. I love the colors. the smell, the cool sunshine. The longer nights. Comfy sleeping with cooler nights, windows cracked open. Thick comforters, to spring out of on quick days. While on those cool Saturday mornings I can enjoy hiding in my fluffy bed. Warm and toasty.
I loved the days the kids would climb in to my bed and snuggle. Those days are long gone. The attraction of Mom's bed is now replaced with their own bed, the Saturday morning cartoons and activities that draw them into other places and journeys in their lives.

The smell of warm soft kids in pajamas. Wonder and love when they lay next to me and ask why there are white tiny hairs on my face. Their wonder and love for listening to each others heartbeats. Hmm. Miss that.

So I will head out this morning mindful of the smells, the smells that are around me. The change, the change that I feel and see, and the blessings each of what those things bring to me.
Grateful for the day and all its promise. Mindful of the smells of home and the road.