Mornings

mornings
mornings

A rattling of the door down the hall. A quiet (or not so) 'mama come in!' from a 2 year old and the spell is broken. Morning is upon us and the kids are awake.

We dress, freshen up, and head downstairs. Tea kettle on first, then turning to tackle breakfast for the thundering herd of small feet coming down the stairs.

A menagerie of cereals, oats and breads - carbohydrates to start our day and I have zero qualms about it. They eat what they eat and everyone's content.

As I sip my coffee they finish their meal and head off in different directions to suit their personalities. One outside to make mud pies. One to the couch with a good book. The 2 year old making pretend smoothies in his play kitchen.

The arguing and yelling will come soon enough. Tears to wipe away. Boo boos to kiss. But for a few moments - quiet, content, coffee.

I enlist the help of my oldest in choosing a diffuser blend for the day. 'The green one, mama. Oh! And lemon!' and the smell of peppermint begins to fill my lungs as if to say 'Good morning. Here we go again."

It doesn't matter the day. Monday, Friday, Saturday. Our days are our days. Sometimes daddy's around and things move at a quicker pace. But mostly the same. Mostly gentle. Mostly chaotic. Mostly.

I've never been a morning person. That time has never been appealing. But I'm beginning to see the beauty. The simplicity. The contentedness of those hours of the sun peeking around the neighbors' roof illuminating the prism in the window - the rainbow appearing on the pantry door.

A little piece of beauty in our every day.