Everyday ordinary.

Being a mom is sometimes a mundane experience. Today, Wednesday, I wake up somewhere after six and off to work by 7. I eat breakfast and lunch at my desk so I can leave at 3pm, which is a straight eight hours. I drive 20 minutes home, walk right in the door and do homeschooling with Ella from 3:30-5pm. From five to six, I get Ezra up from his nap, and give Ella dinner. Its too early for dinner for both Ezra and I so we have to fit that in sometime later in the evening.  At six I take Ella to cheerleading and wait in the lobby for her. After we hop over to the park for a few minutes till its too dark to play. Go home, give Ezra something to eat. Give the kids a bath, let them soak off the dirt and splash around a bit. There is usually a catastrophe to clean up, somehow an invisible whale does a half nelson in the tub resulting in major flooding. I gather Ella's uniform for the next morning and clothes for Ezra so he doesn't go to speech therapy looking like a gypsy's child. I lotion them up, read individually to both. They go to bed and finally I can think of something to feed myself in the peace and quiet whereby it's nine at night now. Finally I can sit. (sitting usually includes commercial break cleaning sessions to clean out what looks like a nuclear fall out site, since no one had five extra minutes to clean today till now....)

Some days it is tedious, monotony that wears on my soul like holes in well worn jeans. I somehow realize I have been called to this smallness. This "experience" isn't a lesson in getting by. Its isn't a grand game to see if I can make it through to the end (whatever that may be)....I have been given actual human beings to keep and to care for and no matter where you are in your religious walk...this is a thing of profound mystery and beauty. In this thought is the bomb that blows the mundane to smithereens. This is a lesson I have to wrap my mind around. I try to look for those little bits of magic sprinkles all in and about my day. Honestly some days I race past it and miss a million little miracles. Other days I don't.  Other days I see my two year old solve the grand mysteries of his little life, like people walking in front of his TV space by putting the ottoman  inches from the TV that you could in fact actually see from outer space it is so big. I realize then that this everyday ordinary is actually sacred. Its a treasure. I may be called to the small things, but they are in fact not small at all and this makes all the difference.