Yesterday I had blood tests done, and this morning I dropped off my pee sample, only for Miss 11 to announce, “Ewww, Mum! Your wee is gross!” to an entire room of people waiting.

I then dropped off banana bread, corn fritters, and freshly picked peaches to the breakfast club at school, only for Miss 17 to loudly complain about the inconvenience it caused her, and how she’s “sick of dropping off food to the school", as if she is forced to be in my car in the mornings.

You will understand then, why I made the snap decision to order myself a drive-through coffee from Maccas and head out to the lake for a walk before starting work. What you also need to understand is that I did this on the second day of the Lunar New Year, and the first day of Lent. I got to the window and they asked for my code. I’m a cheapskate through and through, and had ordered via the app to use points instead of money. So, long story short, I read out my code and the drive-through attendant gasped. Yes, my code was ‘OG-67’.

Now, if that doesn’t make you stop in your tracks, go ask your nearest nine-year-old about it. (6-7 was Word of the Year in dictionary.com)

For me? This is the point at which I became sure that my luck is changing. Not five minutes prior, I was wondering if I could give up listening to ungrateful teenagers whinge for Lent, and now I think this could be the most magical year I’ve ever had.

I immediately called Miss 17, who said, “I’m about to head into roll call, did you actually need something, or did you really call about your Maccas code?”

I then called DH, who said, “Okay, that’s really cool. By the way have you spoken to the driving school yet? Don’t forget there’s a meet-and-greet at school at 4.30 today, and we have to head to the bank in the morning to deposit the cheque from the phone company.”

After my walk, I went to my doctor appointment, told him about the code, and the striking coincidence of Lunar New Year, and he said, “Have you thought anymore about the ADHD testing we talked about last year?”

Whatever. I’m convinced that this is an omen.

On Saturday, I took the girls to the nail salon, and we all got our nails painted together. They both love doing that, but I personally haven’t been since my wedding day twenty years ago, because nail polish isn’t really my thing. But we went, took heaps of photos and I’m sure I created a core memory for my daughters. They both chose pastels with almond tips (not sure what that means), whereas my nails are BRIGHT yellow. Even the nail technician tried to talk me out of such a bold choice, but I just shrugged and explained it was a happy colour.

Each day after work, when Hubby gets home, he gets changed, Miss 11 jumps on her bike, and the three of us head out for a stroll around our suburb. He and I hold hands, enjoy watching our bees raid the neighbour’s flower beds, and we get home an hour later feeling invigorated and looking increasingly tanned.

Miss 11’s homework for this term is a worksheet, spelling words and 15 minutes of reading. I spend every second of those 15 minutes with my eyes on her, listening to her beautiful voice as we uncover what Benjemiah is up to in 'The Whisperwicks'. I love seeing the shape of her face change ever so slightly every day as she gets more angular, and her proficiency increases with every passage she reads.

Miss 17 has completed her logbook hours and is booked in for her driving test in a few weeks. She has gone from a scared 16-year-old who cried while learning how to use the clutch to an almost-adult who is a better driver than anyone I know. Tomorrow she is off to Wollongong for a few days to check out the uni with her school.

And maybe that’s what the code was really about. Not luck changing in some grand, cinematic way. Just this quiet, ordinary miracle of things moving forward.

Teenagers who complain but still answer the phone.

Bright yellow nails.

Walks at dusk.

Books read aloud.

A girl who can drive herself into the next stage of her life.

If OG-67 means anything at all, maybe it just means this:

We’re already OK.