Accepting that life doesn't always go the way we want. Things change from moment to moment, and we have to adapt.
Accepting that my week, so nicely planned out on my Mickey Mouse calendar, is only a "rough draft," and I'd damned well better write things in pencil.
Accepting that kids get sick, snow falls on the driveway (lots of it), kids get sick again, and better and then sick and then better.
Accepting that food is not the answer, but sometimes it tastes yummy, and that's okay.
Accepting that I know what's best for myself, and my body, and sometimes I just don't wanna right now. But I will.
Accepting that it will all get done, eventually, and there's no rush. Rushing things just makes more mistakes to fix and ends up making things take longer.
Accepting that I have done something amazing. And even though I'm not done, it's still really cool to be where I am.
Accepting that there are good days and blah days. But mostly there are good days.
Accepting that my life is mostly awesome. It's okay if once in a while I forget, because someone always reminds me.