My life is illuminated in pristine imperfection. And I love it. I love it so much, I often have butterflies anticipating the simple nuances of my life.
Like this morning for example.
Instead of sleeping in, (“I never get to sleep in” I whined to Allen last night) I wrestled with the emergence of consciousness and the sun streaming through that one annoying crack in our curtains until, with a hopeful one-eyed peep at the clock (please be 9am, please 9am) 7:48 spied me, and I quickly pretended to fall back to sleep. No luck. I start thinking about how best to conquer this day. I’ll make a press and a delicious frittata! Need to weed the back yard… Organize for school. Ooh, what about the farmers market? I should read Eat, Pray, Love like I promised my mom four weeks ago. The girls need new jeans… should hit up the library.
8am. Im up. My little bed head Anna shuffles to me bedside as I lay sleepy feet on the floor and I hold her tight. This is Anna at her sweetest. I take advantage of these moments.
“What we gonna do today, mama?” She whispers.
We’re going to the market.