Go vacuum your house. Whether you have one bedroom or four, tile or carpet, hardwood or laminate, vacuum. Study the corners and grout, the baseboard and transition pieces. Let your arms tire as the rhythm bores you; let the small of your back sweat for sign of a job well done.
You don't need a good vacuum, you don't have any excuse for square footage or child underfoot. What you have are arms that move and eyes that see what you have been given, that for which you are given tender care. Life treads here, life grows there, and wear and tear is a blessing and crumbs are signs of provision. If you're lucky, you'll end with fewer Lego pieces.
Most women I know are longing for a thankful heart and searching for ways to be hospitable. Thankfulness stretches like a muscle, back and forth, to practice the art of knowing what one has. Hospitality is using what we have when others have need, careful to remember that the true Portion satisfies beyond our pantry and makes the trending dishes seem like rusted antiques compared to knowing the riches that come from Christ's bounty.
The mark of a wise woman is this: she knows what she has and she knows what she needs. From this root of faithfulness and stewardship will grow a garden, even an orchard, of fruit beyond our wildest imagination. Tend to your chores and you will tend to your heart.