I don't know how it happened. It wasn't slotted to be a good day. What, with Girlio up seven or more times last night, and the fact that Boy-o has been a walking emotional hurricane for days, I was stealing myself for another day of clutching desparately to whatever shreds of patience I could find in the cupboards (being totally without any myself).
And out of nowhere, beyond any logic or reason, I find myself in the midst of the most perfect and delightful morning with my children. It is probably the sort of morning people imagine when they picture the life of a stay-at-home mom...but truthfully, of course, they are a rarer bird than that.
There have been no power struggles, no tantrums, no shrieking. In its place has been only games of "airport," watching Girlio trying to crawl and bum scootch across the house, and Boy-o making me endless variations of dubiously edible concoctions of food in his play kitchen. I have been peppered in smooches and snuggles and flying leaps of gangly-legged preschooler love (okay, a little warning that the flying leaps were coming might have been useful, but beggars can't be choosers here folks).
Boy-o wanted to bake for real and we scraped together the most delightful version of "kitchen sink" muffins with carrots and apples and lightly toasted remnants of trailmix and oats - during which he laughed and followed instructions (mostly). We watched them bake in the oven and they turned out beautifully - healthy enough to be relatively guilt-free, but not enough to be, you know, inedible. And just because even though this goes against all the rules - we ate them for lunch (and Boy-o had two).
Then Girlio fell asleep so sweetly, with her mouth curved into a smile around my nipple, still dedicatedly trying to eating in her sleep, but hindered both by sleeping and grinning. And then Boy-o contentedly had 40 minutes of quiet time listening to Jamie Lee Curtis stories on cd.
There are so many things that need to be done. Groceries to buy, cleaning to finish, dinner to make. But I am not a foolish woman. Mornings like these don't come around every day; they are not to be squandered with "shoulds" and "ought to's". After days of darkness and being pushed to the limits, I will not let this collective good mood go to waste. So now we are off on an adventure to the the museum, and wherever else this gift of a day takes us.