Happiness is...

We drive in the car past the buildings whose tops touch the yellowish sky. We take the toll road for a mere twenty cents. In the back seat of the car, the kids fight over the two leapsters. Really CJ creates the biggest scene as she screams when it's not her turn to use the leapster. But fifteen minutes into the drive, her head bobs and her eyelids droop. And I'm glad I decided to give her the full dose of Dramamine.

Soon the sky scrapers and the smog is behind us. And all I see are fields and red tile-roof houses. Banana trees line the highway. My husband and I share the ipod, one ear bud each.

Once we enter the town of Bogor we catch glimpses of mountain peaks. Purple and gray mountains playing peek-a-boo behind the fluffy white clouds. As we begin the ascent of the mountain, driving the switch backs, my stomach lurches. The steep mountain side is cultivated with tea plants, shrubs the size of azalea bushes with lime green new leaves.

The vacation house perches on a mountain ledge surrounded by a lawn of true green grass just begging for us to play a game of soccer (which we do). I breathe deeply and it's as though my lungs are tasting the sweetness of the air.

I have four days of wonderful moments (mingled, of course, with all the crazy that comes with five children).

I sit on the porch with my husband and laugh at the kids as they play tag on the grass. The clouds float in, coating the yard in white gossamer. The clouds touch my childrens' heads and settle amongst the trees.

I watch my children climb six foot tall tree roots as though they're playing on a jungle gym.

I gasp as my two most brave children, Madi and Tman, lunge in the pool at the base of the waterfall and then stick their heads under the falling water.
I scream at the animal snouts and trunks and faces coming through the car windows at Taman Safari - and I watch my husband laugh so hard he goes into a coughing fit.

I run (but mostly walk because it is so dang steep) along mountain roads with my husband in the morning. I watch him barter with a local to purchase a painting on canvas of the mountain we've so enjoyed.

Happiness is hiking for two hours and feeling the spray of a waterfall brush against my cheeks like a million kisses. Happiness is hearing the kids fight in the car followed by the peace of all of them sleeping. Happiness is wrestling a three-year old in the tub, trying to get her clean followed by a fire crackling in the fireplace, cuddling on the couch, hot chocolate, and a good movie. Happiness is being wakened way too early by CJ who pat pat pats into my room and climbs into bed with me. Happiness is the morning mist that pools in the mountain valleys. Happiness is Tman crying in the car because he's scared of the animals at Taman Safari. And then watching him gather his courage and reach a carrot out to a zebra.

Happiness is the mess of screaming children and the music of their laughter. It is exhaustion mingled with satisfaction. It is the good and bad rolled into one. It is knowing the peace because I've known the crazy. It is recognizing beauty because I've seen the horribly sad. It is savoring clean air because I've breathed the smog. Happiness is the bitter, sour, and sweet. And it's only during those moments of clarity when I truly see this, that happiness comes fuller, and sweeter, and sooner.