Everyday is sippy cups and diaper changes and toast in the toaster at 7 am before I feel prepared to face the morning. Everyday is cartoons and guilt over cartoons and toys everywhere, absolutely everywhere. Everyday is more laundry and more laundry and folding and putting away. And the dishes, oh the dishes.
And it sometimes feels so small. So insignificant. So worth the question that I heard once a few years back, and it rings in my ear to this day, "is this what you do all day?" Yes, this, this mothering--this daily stuff--is what I do all day.
But everyday, somewhere right smack dab in the middle of the mundane, (because it is certainly mundane, right?), I catch a glimpse of the extraordinary. The little hands on my face at 6:30 am, asking, "can we get up now?" John's toddler body, so quickly leaving babyhood behind, sinking into mine as I rock him before nap time. And the way he loves to rub his cheek against mine. Because as mundane as it is, it is equally extraordinary. That I get to be a firsthand witness to these little people becoming. Discovering. Growing and learning and grasping. That I get to be the mother in their everyday.
It's a gift of the highest sort--this everyday.
And a few pictures from our everyday day today (lots of days in that sentence). This summer's first trip to the pool and the sunscreen hair to go with it.