utterly ordinary

Our days feel utterly ordinary and marvelously miraculous and seemingly cataclysmic all the same.

The boys are best friends and then mortal enemies.  One morning I possess a vast capacity for patience, and run up against its limits that afternoon.  The house is under control... oh wait, no it's not.  Regularly we reach extremes.  And conclusions.  Like maybe the dirt and the divine are inseparable.

Some days I think, deliriously, that this could actually go on forever, nursing the baby, listening to the Minecraft monologue, all the hours that revolve around the bathtub and the kitchen sink.
It may be the most privileged strain of panic, letting today be dominated by tomorrow.
I remind myself that right now is all that really matters right now.
I remind myself that our worst moments don't tell the whole story in the same way our best ones don't either.  And there are so many of not one or the other, so many somewhere in the middle, so much that's not even worth noting. Except sometimes it is.

SaveSave