Thankfully

Soccer season is So. Not. Over.  I don't know what made me think I could post that previously because Marcus absolutely loves soccer so there is always some type of soccer going on.  Because I'm always on the lookout for any opportunity where he can play and learn without interfering with Sundays, I signed him up for a weekly clinic.  It's every Friday afternoon for an hour and it's almost a twenty-five minute drive to get there.  It's definitely a sacrifice to make this work and I have to be at the top of my game to get him there but it's worth it nonetheless. 
Here's how it happened yesterday:
Over breakfast I told the boys the schedule for the day, and it was a doozy.  I had a guy coming to repair our van windshield, twenty women/children coming for book group and as soon as book group was over I had to drive carpool for Marcus {assuming the van was finished being repaired, which it was but only by a few minutes}.   I told Landon he wouldn't be going to preschool that day because I couldn't be in two places at once {he cheered}, and I told Ethan he had to be the first kid off the bus at his stop so he could hop in the van where we would all be waiting for him so we could rush off to Marcus's soccer clinic where we would only be a few minutes late if everything went according to plan and if I drove like a mad woman. So ya know, no pressure.
The busy day went smoothly, the boys were loaded in the van and we drove off to the bus stop.  As we waited for the bus I realized Marcus didn't have his soccer ball or a water bottle.  I freaked out and told him to run home while I picked up Ethan from the bus which was pulling up right then.  Ethan jumped into the van as fast as could be {such a good boy} and we drove back home for Marcus.  This was not part of the plan and I was so angry you could practically see the steam coming out of my ears.  I pulled into the driveway and honked the horn.  No Marcus.  Then I opened the garage door so I could run inside and yell for him and there he was, in the garage, frantically pumping up an old soccer ball because he couldn't find his ball.  I pretty much thought my head was going to explode I was so angry and told him to get in the car with the flat ball.
We made it to the clinic only two minutes late because I can maneuver a minivan through traffic like it's nobody's business.  While Marcus played soccer I took the younger boys to the nearest toy store where they enjoyed creating their Christmas wish list and I got really good at saying, "No, I will not buy you that _______.  Maybe Santa will bring it for Christmas."  We were having a great time until we realized Parker needed a diaper change in a bad way.  After herding the boys into the restroom I discovered I had diaper wipes but no diaper so Parker got to have his first "commando" experience.  We picked up a sweaty but smiley Marcus from soccer and drove home after a long day.  As the boys jumped out of the van and ran inside Marcus said, "Thanks for driving me to soccer, Mom.  It was really fun."
My jaw dropped and I almost cried.  I've driven this kid around to a million different things and he usually remembers to say thanks but I felt like this was the first time he actually got it.  He got that it wasn't easy or convenient or fun for me, but he knew I did it because I love him {and I love a good challenge}.  I was shocked and sat in the van for a few minutes by myself reflecting on what had just happened.  An attitude of gratitude goes a long way.  It melted my heart and turned my chaotic day into a meaningful one just by feeling appreciated.  It was a good day.