One of the notes on my phone that I add to every day is about Ben's moods. It helps to simply keep tabs on how much yelling, and how much smiling is happening. If I leave it to my faulty memory, the good seems to blow through like the air in my vacuum while the negatives collect thicker than lint. That way I have proof, to assure myself that there were indeed four congenial mornings this week. 

Today was one of them. He was excited about a field trip and dressed quickly. That is if you can attribute quickness to twenty minutes for precisely seven items. Still we chatted about what the trip might be like and whether he had remembered to pack his money. He had. 

I remember another time in Odhner history when I felt discouraged. It seemed that the sibling rivalry was rivaling a genuine Hillbilly feud. The Charas vs the Lukas'. She wanted picnics with cut fruit. He wanted action. If action meant teasing so be it. It was more interesting than passing the strawberries please. 

I decided to time the conflicts, so I could have it in indisputable ink, just to satisfy my angst. But after a reliable test period I added it up. 

Two hours a week. 

It had felt like the squabbles were incessant, but that was because I had learned to focus on them, not the interim. They came in short blasts, sprinkled throughout the day like commercials when I watched television back when sit coms were thirty minutes long. Two hours. I spent more time in traffic on the freeway shuttling kids to friends' houses. If I couldn't weather two hours a week subbing as a mediator, I wasn't worthy of my mother badge. 

We begin every marriage group and mentor meeting with brags. We invite couples to express the good things about their partner. Clearly some find this to be a flabby muscle. 

Maybe I should recommend an app for keeping track. I think it would lead them to a prettier place.