Morning Glory

It's 7:13 a.m.   My 2 1/2 year old, whose bed I slipped into somewhere around the 5 o'clock hour to keep him sleeping in his own bed the rest of the night, woke me up less than 15 minutes ago by sticking his fingers up my nose.  After sticking them up his.  On repeat.  Until he saw his favorite person leaving for work through the crack in the door and ran out to say goodbye to his beloved daddy.   Immediately thereafter he stomped back in and told me it was morning time and I need "to put th-ome pant-th on".   After sliding on the pair he chose for me, a gaudy version of mama-fat-pants-stretch-leggings (thanks buddy), I rolled out to greet the newly risen sun.  Thank god for the sun.  This freaking Minnesota "spring" come longest-winter-ever is k-i-l-l-i-n-g us all.   In the next 5 minutes said 2 year old has played two rounds of Pie In The Face because whipped cream in the face is always hilarious, no matter what time it is.  And my 5 year old with crazy bedhead just asked me to tell her a story.  Her favorite thing, which also happens to be the thing I just never feel up for.   Who can be creative when they're exhausted all the time and using all their oomph for appetizing lunches and figuring out what to do with the 2 year old all day, I ask you?!

It's all a lot to ask before coffee.   A lot.

Normally this kind of start to the day would make me feel cranky and trapped.  Again.  But today...   Maybe it's the sun.  Today I just feel grateful.  Grateful to be their mama, grateful to be the one they feel safest with, grateful for the ordinary-ness of it.  Mundane is the new glorious, you know.  At least for those of us who have ached for ordinary when our world turned inside out.

So guess what?  Today I started a new story.  For my precious girl.

After coffee in hand, of course.