There are those moments when I want to scream into a pillow (and sometimes I do), but for the most part we have our little routine that is simply, beautifully, in its way delightful. And on some days there is a moment when I even find it transcendent: the laughter of the baby, the times when I see my girls are learning after all, the lovely feeling I get doing the same things over and over and over: that I know what comes next. I felt it today as I patted Emma's bottom one last time and stood up from rocking her to put her down for her nap: a rush of gladness that I do this every day, just this same exact way, and by persevering in it, through frustrations and enjoyments, I am accomplishing something truly worthwhile.
In our little week, there are days for preschool and going to the Y, a day for the grocery store, a day for Bible Study, and at least one day, if not two, for staying at home. On those days, we might run a quick errand, but not before noon. On Fridays, we breathe a sigh of relief and stay in our pajamas til...well, sometimes all day.
Weekends are best, though. On Friday nights, Daddy is home for good, and the air holds a feeling of celebration. Saturday morning we finally get to "watch," after refraining - for the most part - all week, and Daddy makes bacon, sausage, and "peh-pakes." And sometimes Mommy gets to sleep in. We stay up late Saturday night. Sunday we take our time getting up, drink coffee, read the newspaper. Then we go to the late service at church, come home, and start all over again.
In our little days, you can see the routine even better. There is the way the kids climb into bed with us in the mornings. There is the coffee brewing while I pop the oatmeal into the microwave. There is breakfast, with Mommy juggling a hundred things at once - get this, get that, feed the baby, try to eat a bite herself. Then there is the lull afterward while the girls play and Will naps. I sometimes do a little cleaning; I sometimes read or write when I should be cleaning. There is "make your beds" time, snack time, nurse the baby time, lunch time, play time, nap time, get up and try to not be cranky time, make dinner time, eat dinner time, reading time, brush your teeth time, tuck them in time, and sit on the couch with John time.
That's my life. It might sound boring; there was a time when I would have thought it even sounded depressing - the monotony. But it only sounds monotonous. For one thing, routine always has a way of switching itself up just when you get used to it. When summer comes, our lives will look completely different - well, not completely. There will still be breakfast, lunch, dinner, and nap from 3-5.
God made us creatures of habit. I used to think that was a bad thing. Now it sort of makes me want to hug myself. It's in the folds of this humdrum fabric that are hidden the gleaming, unexpected treasures of my beautiful life. I used to think an ordinary life meant the death of dreams. Now I'm finding out what my dreams really are.