My Magic Morning

I’ve grown to really love my mornings and the silence in the house, the sleepy scene playing outside the window. I get to watch the sun set the mountain side of fire, see the flames lick down to the field below. Sometimes it kisses the dingy sides of cows, others the blaze highlights great birds in flight. Today, that field is empty, except a lone deer with her head bent to taste the dew.

Both girls are sleeping, little faces twitch with dreams and cheeks so rosy red. The cat is out, either hunting a rabbit or stuck in the tree. Mr. Fo, the forever fish, rests at the bottom of his tank. The only sounds inside this room: the click of keys, the sputter of coffee and the hum of the fridge.

I know this wonder will be short lived. I know soon enough the sun will finish her journey and her fire will leave the mountain a lush green. The babies will wake and fill the house with their unique music and the cat will beg for food as she hasn’t eaten all night, poor thing. Cartoons will drown out the crisp tap of words and the slosh of milk will over power the tinkle of coffee.

I find myself waking earlier each day, just for a few more moments of this magic morning. I gladly give up that little extra sleep for this time that is mine now. And as joyful as these few hours are to me, as priceless as they have become, I wouldn’t want it to last forever. That would ruin it, I believe. So, I’ll take this time and when the house awakes, I’ll bid it ado until tomorrow with a little grin and fully recharged to meet the crazy that is my life.

Just Another Day For This Mother

Today is a day to acknowledge all the hard work a mother does for her family. It’s a day to show her how much she’s appreciated and for some, it’s the one day out of the year that she can take off. For me, it’s just another day.

I woke up to a screaming baby and a 4-year-old demanding breakfast. So I dragged myself out of bed, despite the day or the ungodly pain. Today, I get to clean house, change diapers, cook meals, clean some more, wear spit up and butt heads with a stubborn preschooler alone.

And I get the baby giggles, “I love you’s,” slobber kisses, leg hugs, raspberries and cuddle bugs all to myself. I won’t have to share the ear-to-ear smiles, squeals of delight or sleeping angel faces.

Today is just another day for this mother, because in my life, everyday is Mother’s Day.