The older I get, the more I treasure the little things that, in my youth, I wouldn’t have given a second thought. Now don’t get me wrong; If you’re considered young and are reading this, you likely have no idea what I’m talking about. But if you ask me, enjoying the little things is one of the few perks of aging.

Now that I’m 70, I find I don’t sweat the small stuff like I did in my youth, aka, back when I had collagen and nary a gray hair. I barely recognize myself today from when I was 40, and not strictly by looks, although there’s that too.

So here are some of my little things…

When in the middle of the night, I don’t have to let Skip out to pee every three hours because he’s (a) old, (b) incontinent, (c) bored, or (d) all of the above. Now it’s only every four hours. Yippee!

When Taffy hits the pee pad, a bullseye smack in the middle, I’m thrilled because it’s such a rare occurrence. She arrived pee pad trained, or so I was told. But luckily I have washable area rugs and indestructible Luxury Vinyl Plank flooring.

When I come close to accurately folding a California King fitted sheet, I’m astounded. I believe that particular feat is unattainable for me, so coming close is good enough. Guess which is mine…

Speaking of coming close, I’ve rarely finished a crossword puzzle. Maybe a handful of times I’ve done it, which is embarrassing to admit, but there you go. So when I’m at 99%, for me that’s a victory.

When I wake up and nine of my ten pets are surrounding me like a cocoon of snoring fur, that’s when I’m content. Mango and Savannah share one of the cat beds while Jack and Dash share the other. Skye sleeps on the pillow next to mine unless she sees me looking at her, and then bolts under the bed.

Skip likes to sleep with Oliver when he’s not against my leg. Taffy insists on being within inches of my head, or under the covers with me, otherwise she whimpers incessantly. Wally sleeps wherever he finds room. Piper’s the only one with enough sense to sleep downstairs. It’s no wonder I barely sleep. What can I say? To paraphrase a line from the movie, Jerry Maguire, “They complete me.” Too cheesy? Okay, let’s move on.

When I have less than 20 personal emails waiting for me each morning and under 30 feral cat related, then that, my friends, is a great start to the day. If I can leave my home office under three hours after texting, calling and emailing current and potential clients, it borders on miraculous.

When I’m able to sleep a full five hours, I call that bliss. Granted, it’s nearly impossible given my situation with those snoring fur balls and Skip’s weak bladder, but when I get five straight, it’s what I imagine winning the lottery feels like and I’m the lucky recipient.

When I get a sweet email from a friend for no particular reason, I appreciate it more.

When I have friends over for lunch and they stay until nearly dinnertime, I’m fortunate.

When my neighbor, Paul, puts my three garbage cans out the night before garbage day and then retrieves them, I’m thankful.

When my godkids call me Auntie Janet, I feel blessed.

When Loretta and I talk on the phone over four hours, yet it feels more like 30 minutes, that’s a treasured friendship.

These are just some of the little things one may not notice when zipping through life. I think it’s only when we slow down that we really appreciate those things. And for that, I’m truly grateful.