I want a lot out of life--time to take in the beauty of the world; time to create; time to spend with all the people I love and to learn from the stories of others. I am a dreamer--I truly want magic in every moment of life. I am also what I call a "recovering perfectionist." So sometimes the reality that life is usually pretty mundane weighs heavily on me at times.
Constant food-preparation, mountains of laundry and other household chores (which are pretty much summed up by the phrase, "scrubbing accumulated stickiness and crusty mysteries from various surfaces--including my own face and hair")... and doing all of this with the added weight of one or two little monkeys wrapped around my legs... this is my glamorous life. Add to that the frustration in making several cups of tea every day that will inevitably just sit and get cold because I hardly have a moment to sit down and "sip"...
But this is the truth: my life is magical. I wouldn't trade it for anything, and I am determined to drink in the precious moments. Never mind that I am standing, clutching my mop, in a puddle of pickle-juice mixed with yogurt, a few bread crusts and smashed banana mixed in for good measure (true story). I will make this moment magical: I exhale slowly and grab my reheated mug from the microwave for the third time today (breathing the spring-in-a-cup scent of Jasmine Green Tea is magic in itself); I close my eyes and glean the beauty from this chaos: my girls making funny, sour faces as they sucked on their pickles, returning over and over again to the jar with wide, expectant eyes. Then they had to have yogurt, of course; sweet to balance out the sour (just like their mama, and like their mama's mama). And finally a banana to cheer up Penelope after she dumped the jar of cold pickle-juice all over herself (she gleefully ate two-thirds of the banana and then, just as gleefully, wiped the rest all over the front of my shirt).
I open my eyes, hurry and clean up this mess so I can go and take a peek at the little monsters who are finally sleeping peacefully. Because despite the fact that life is lately overwhelming on the parenting-front (perhaps even disastrous at times), I still miss my little angels when they go to sleep.
I'm on the journey of accomplishing all my dreams. My husband reminds me, "It's not a race, Sweetheart!" Baby steps, right? And even if, at this life-stage, my "baby steps" usually mean "stepping in the messes that my babies make," that in itself is a beautiful thing. Because those two little ladies were once a dream of mine, and that dream coming true is a miracle that I certainly don't take for granted. I have the honor and pleasure of raising, teaching and learning from the little people who will grow up to be two of the best friends I have in all the world. And boy, won't I love telling them the stories of all the ways they drove me crazy!