scenes from an extraordinarily ordinary morning…

I scramble the eggs which little boys have brought me. Wrap them into tortillas. I snatch some fresh blackberries and dark chocolate while I work because after all,  I am the mama.  <g> 

We slice the apples… "We have no oranges, Mom, only grapefruit that looks like oranges, but we have apples. Can we have apples?"  We have apples.

Little people row row row their boat.  (…cooler <g>)  "We are rafting Mom! Look at us!" 

I do just that.  I look at them deep in the adventure that called them out so early and am reluctant to hurry them back in. Rafting on the dry prairie.  I wonder what kind of dreams they are dreaming this morning? 
 

Kieran was up at dawn asking for coloring pages.  "Remember our story last night Mom?" We read about the Bayeux Tapestry in an old reader before bed. I didn't think they would remember. "Remember you said you could find some knights for me? Can we do that?"  The computer is fired up.  We find knights.  "I want the hard ones, not an easy one. I am using pencils."  Brendan gets one too, though he reminds me we have no more gray crayons and armor really should be gray.  Kieran chatters about chain mail while I cook, telling me it really didn't help that much because in Lord of the Rings they still died.  

   Aidan calls from the recliner, "Mom!  Listen to this! This is the coolest thing I ever heard!"  He is deeply impressed with Nathan Hale, whom he discovered before breakfast in his reader.  He is pretty sure his friends called him 'Nate.'  Who am I to argue?

Some are not ready for the day just yet.  Abbie dozes off, slouches onto old church pew. We save her plate.  The dog, too, is unimpressed.  Morning will happen soon enough for them. 

We settle into the little things that make up our day.  Sword fights and hero tales.  Dishes and laundry.  Sleepy babies and broken crayons.  I wish my husband was home this day taking a deep breath of the blessed ordinary with us. I am grateful to have it.  Grateful too that he rose early, like he does every morning, quietly ate the first round of breakfast, and is off working hard to make this all happen.  

Thank you God for all that is this morning, this life of ours. 
 
 

For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed. - Kahlil Gibran