Morning Light

I get up early. Thoughts of what's coming always draw me out of bed. As I imagine them to be at your house, mornings are a whirlwind around here. Get 'em up. Get 'em fed. Make the lunches. Don't forget the homework, contact lenses, bus notes, gloves. You know the drill.

So I get up before everyone else and spend a few minutes.

The calm before the proverbial storm.

Of course there's coffee and checking in on my favorite blogs. Until recently there were the papers as well. (It hasn't been the same for me since news-gathering became a digital habit.) There was dog walking... but no more. Now it's just me and the cat. We warm the house for the others. We gather our strength for the rush. (Mostly I gather my strength and she sits on the back of a chair and watches the sun rise.)

At 6:15 a.m. I usually feel as if I can accomplish anything. The day lays in front of me with endless moments I plan to fill with finishing. I will finish cleaning the bathrooms. I will finish the dishes, the laundry, the bills. I will clean my closet and file that stack of papers. I will finish everything while devoting my full attention to playing with my toddler.

At 6:37 a.m. it seems possible to finish everything.

But I never do.

Tonight, in a moment of feeling unsuccessful, I will remind myself of the things that did get finished.

When Jake got off the school bus, there were warm cookies waiting for him—never mind if the dishes were still in the sink. When Quinn took his nap, his diaper was clean, his belly was full and he was wrapped up in a quilt that I stitched for him—no matter if his jammies were still in a pile on the floor. When he bumped his head while we played, I scooped him up and kissed it until he laughed—it's okay if the toys still sit where we left them. When Jake wanted to play a new piece for me on his keyboard, I sat and listened to it over and over—no one minded eating dinner a little late. And when everyone was sleeping and the quiet finally settled back around me, the house was a mess and nothing was set for the next morning but I didn't mind.

At 6:04 a.m. tomorrow, it'll all seem possible again, and maybe tomorrow it will be.

Thanks for visiting.