Count your blessings, not your worries...

That's what the message said inside my Dove chocolate this morning.  I'm a worrier.  It's what I do.  It's in my blood.  My mom is a nut- she worries about everything, and I mean EVERYTHING.  I'm 22 and married and she still asks me what I ate for lunch and makes me call after long road trips (and by long I mean anything over 1 1/2 hours).  Lucy (my grandma,) on the other hand, makes me call when I get home after visiting her - she lives about 10 minutes away.  She also worries about the bed we sleep in (it can't be good for our backs) and the bed that her neighbors sleep in.  So, I have been doomed to a life of worrying from the start and ironically enough I married a man who has never had a care in the world.  Eric is constantly reminding me to take a deep breath and trust the Lord.  I am grateful for that, and although his laid back attitude and adventurous spirit makes me worry, I think we balance each other out quite nicely.  At least when he is jumping out of planes with our children, someone will be on the ground worrying about them.  As for now, I'm going to stop counting my worries and start counting my blessings...

1. The Gospel

2. My husband

3. Forever Families

4.  Mountains (Colorado)

5. Oceans (Hermosa Beach)

6. Cookies, cakes, and other baked goodness

7. Sonnyboy

8. Seasons

9. A good education

10. Waking up to my best friend.