I woke up later then usual.
Which isn't really a big deal. I don't have a boss. (Unless you count the fifteen month old and the seven year old who pound me down daily. With their identical grins...)
Making tea in my kitchen, alone, watching the light snake over the chair backs and through the wavy glass panes. Buttering toast, with a heavy hand. (I've been told I sure know how to spread on the spreads. Much to the toddler's enjoyment...)(As in, more cream cheese then toast)
Days begin here.
And then they end here.
There is space in between, but the routine we live in fills it.
Many words spoken, diapers changed, laundry done.
Food prepared, clothes changed. Doors opened and closed.
Smiles, laughter, tears and nap times.
Dreams had and forgotten.
Walks taken, hair brushed. (Or not)
Realizing the timelessness of this, and how someday, somehow, I will realize how much I took for granted and how much I didn't.