What makes me happy

I have been thinking about what makes me happy and how to make that a part of my life a lot more. Here is a list, still a work in progress:

My kids - Obviously !

Reading - #1 thing while growing up. I had very little to be happy about while growing up. Reading was my escape, a way to live in another world. At one time, I was reading a book a day, 4-5 during the weekend.

Writing - I have always liked writing. I guess I am already working on that one, on here.

Walking - I cannot remember a time I was not walking. I do remember a time where I was walking morning and evening. Children walking/running around the stroller, little on sleeping, me watching them laugh, find bugs, look at the cows. Happy with my children.

Exercising - I used to have a home gym. Then, the boys started growing up and the fighting began. It was easier to put away the home gym and have two youngest boys share that room and have the oldest two boys each have theirs.

Running - Running makes me feel so powerful, like nothing in the world is stronger than I am.

Photography - Taking pictures is magical, it lets me capture a moment for eternity. I used to take hundreds of pictures a month. At least.

Cooking and baking - Having a house smell so good and all kinds of snacks and meals ready for my kids is what makes me feel like a great mom to them. Cooking and baking are something we share. Each child can chose a few recipes that we will prepare together during the week.

Travelling - I love going to new places, seeing new sights, finding little corners of paradise.

Waking up early in the morning and watching the sun rise. Or walking while the sun sets.

So much makes me happy. Because of a very difficult and unhappy childhood, I know how fragile everything is so it actually takes very little to make me happy. I appreciate the littlests things in life. I see wonders where others see nothing.

I think one of the reasons it took me so long to realize that I was depressed was because I was still smiling and laughing in between the tears. Alright, not really tears because I very rarely cry.

I very rarely cry. Why is that ? Because it makes me feel weak. No one must know that I am weak. So, I hide it all.