Thursday, June 9, 2011

On good days...

Patience abounds.

(Good days are usually preceded by a full nights sleep.)

On good days, I empty the dishwasher in the morning and refill it as we go.

I answer 'What's for supper?' before noon. It's a healthy and easy plan, and I remember to double check that we have the ingredients.

On good days, I'm imaginative Mommy. On good days couch forts happen. Where dollies get tucked in. On good days I fold laundry without converting our television into a babysitter.

On good days I do actually get to the folding part of the laundry.

The kids play, and read, and draw. Together. And screen-less. And not because I demanded it.

We eat supper with the windows wide open, during a breezy, loud, warm thunderstorm.

On good days supper is yummy. And calm. Everyone eats. Mostly the same food. And sits in their chairs.

I do the supperwork. After supper. As opposed to it greeting me like a hangover in the morning.

On good days, I am productive Mommy. Kids get bathed, youngest to oldest, two by two. The question of whether it's tan or dirt gets answered.

On good days Claire remembers not to dump water on Max's head, and I think to clean the bathroom while they're bathing. Of course the crawling and pulling of sister's hair has thrown a new and exciting twist into bathtime. Always a twist.

On a perfect day, all of my children would sleep like Seth, my wonder child of sleeping. Good lord that would be lovely. We're not, however, talking about a perfect day.

On good days I get to make sewing plans, and match fabric, and actually think about actually sewing sometime soon. Preferably before my little girl is too old to wear the cute little girl stuff I want to sew. That would be nice.

Once upon a time, in my pre-kids life, a good day would have be comprised of sleeping (there was lots of sleeping in my once upon a time), lots of people, and lots of art. Apparently nothing's really changed. Except now I mostly daydream of sleep, the people are very little, and the art is the most abstract of abstract made by littles variety. My own art will come back. It's coming.

Today was a good, good day.

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