It was nearing the end of the day. I stood outside my daughter's classroom, waiting and chatting to other parents. When my girl spotted me she came dashing out, squeezed a note into my hand, and ran back inside for the last few minutes of class. 

"10 things I love," she'd written on the note, atop a list of great things in her life. 

The notion of listing her favourite things in life struck me as brilliant, and over the next weeks she shared lots more, sometimes in list form and sometimes while chatting. "I love that feeling you get when you see a toy in your cupboard that you'd forgotten you had," she dreamily added to her list later. 

My kids inspire me in many ways, but never more than through their happiness, love and gratitude. They are so easily pleased – just give them their favourite bowl and cup with lunch and they’re cheering and high-fiving each other – and it makes me feel like looking for the delight in little things.

So, in the spirit of my daughter, I'd like to list some of the things I love. 

 

I love my husband and kids; every time they walk into the house I smile. 

I love it when I get a new piece of work commissioned. Those emails still make me smile that my dream job is actually working out. 

I love the feeling of the sun on my skin, warming me to my core in a way that no heater can manage. 

I love chocolate melting on my tongue, and then oozing all around my mouth. (Oh man, now I want chocolate.)

I love it when I take time for myself; it's like a little love note to myself. 

I love waking feeling rested and ready for the day. 

I love people watching. People are intriguing and odd, and they fascinate me. 

I love writing freely. I never feel more ‘me’ than when I let my wandering mind direct my dancing fingers around the keyboard.

I love that moment my skin hits the water of the pool on an unrelentingly hot day. 

I love lying in bed at the end of a long day; the term 'bedgasm' sums it up. 

I love hearing the crunch of a dried autumn leaf. So much so that I often watch the ground as I walk through the season, going out of my way to step on the crunchy leaves.

I love hearing my children laugh the contagious, genuine belly laughs of childhood.