The Bluebird of Happiness

The terrific twos have hit hard around here.

We had the house cleaned on Monday, but you'd never know it.  In a five minute window where I attempted to get dressed this morning Harper emptied the contents of a bottle of hair detangler, a travel sized conditioner, a bottle full of rubbing alcohol (hey at least everything is sanitized now) a sippy cup of milk,  and a bottle full of baby vitamins all onto our wood floors in the dining room.

Yeah.

I have a glass figurine of a bluebird on my dresser.    I usually keep it up high enough that Harper can't reach it, but the older girls love to take it off the dresser and play with it.  Each time, asking me to tell them the legend behind it: little children who traveled the world over in search of the "bluebird of happiness" only to discover it perched on their front porch when they returned home from their journey.  It is very special to me. It remind me of my grandmother, who gave it to me.  And, it reminds me that happiness is right here in my home, just where I am.

After playing with it just a few days ago, the girls propped it right on the corner of the dresser- where that evening Harper discovered it and threw it, with all her might, onto our wooden floors...just to see what would happen.

It shattered.

"My bluebird of happiness!" I cried. 

Lucas said, "Your whaaaaaa?  I never even knew what that thing was!"

"Does this mean there isn't going to be any more happiness in our house?"  Norah wondered.

Avery, much more practical, countered, "well, I always wondered why it was blue anyway.  I think it would make you more happy if it were green,  Mom."

And Harper just looked up innocently, in wonder and in awe of the blue specks of glass shattered across the floor.

I haven't had it in me to throw what remains of the figurine in the trash.  It sits, in pieces, on a bookcase out of reach.  But, deep down I know, the bluebird of happiness really can't be broken.  Deep down, I know, it sits perched on my porch too, waiting for me.