Gift of the ordinary

I've had a blog post in 'draft' status for over a week now.

I feel busier than ever, and on my down time I am appreciating my girls and my Dan. I am constantly making mental notes about what I want to make sure I jot down that the girlies did so that I don't forget, it's just not made it to the 'publish post' status yet.

I love this blog for the very fact that I am able to jot down all the fleeting moments that I don't want to forget. I will forever be grateful to this little online journal of mine; Lord knows I type much faster than I write. And, I have realized very quickly in having this little family of mine that these moments don't last forever. They come and they go as quickly as they started, and I savor them all and try to use this as my outlet of preserving these precious memories so that one day I can reflect on them all, and remember them again and smile.

The two perks that I have enjoyed lately of working at the library are 1) I get to visit the children's section upstairs every day during my lunch break and 2) I get to read when I am not visiting the children's section upstairs during my lunch break. I have been reading a book called 'The Gift of an Ordinary Day.' I can't put it down, and there is so much in this book that I feel has been my mantra ever since these ladies of mine have come into our lives: it's the ordinary that counts, and not the extraordinary. It is never a bad thing though to be reminded of this every chance possible.

I will forever remember the way Abrie looks at me when I go in in the mornings to get her-- standing there in her crib with her little arms outstretched to mine, waving in her backwards motion to me, and taking her pacifier out of her mouth so that she can smile and say 'Momma' to me. I won't ever forget Faith's quirky way of "soothing" Abrie when she cries by singing "There were 10 in the bed, and the little one said.. roll over, ROLL OVER..." at the top of her lungs. And, the way she tells me in her little voice, "You the best Momma EVAH." I will always look back on Maddie's anxiety about kindergarten next fall and the way she tells me "I don't want to be without you" and take it as the best compliment in the world: she wants to be with me, and not without me. I know one day that will all change, and she'll want that time away from me. I will look back on these days and smile.

I love the ordinary moments that make my life extraordinary. My girls are my extraordinary.