“You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one. Each day is a different one, each day brings a miracle of its own. It's just a matter of paying attention to this miracle.”
- Paulo Coelho
Sometimes a mom's life can be a little mundane. The routine - or lack of routine - of daily tasks makes it easy (at least for me) to get lost in the minutiae of minute to minute life. Diapers, meals, laundry, errands, activities and events eat up the clock. When the girls are finally tucked into bed at night and Jeff and I sit down to dinner, I don't know where my day has gone. I lose hours and days, weeks and even months in a way that would shock my pre-baby self.
I came across Coelho's quote during a quick Facebook check-in, a login sparked by the need for momentary adult connection after the girls had gone down for naps. As I paused there in the kitchen, dishwasher whirring, crockpot lid bouncing quietly, strains of a lullaby CD floating down the stairs, I was moved by the truth of it.
While my life is perhaps not as ambitious on paper as I imagined it would be in my early twenties, I'd be lying to say that I didn't feel fulfilled in what my life has turned out to be. No, there is nothing glamorous about poopy diapers or toddler meltdowns or the fact that I got all of the garbage cans emptied out before my husband came home.
But today, my oldest daughter clomped around happily post-tantrum in my shoes, wearing her footy pajamas, squealing, "Mommy shoes!" And my younger daughter held her bottle for the first time, smiling so big around the nipple that formula dribbled everywhere. As I sit here at the counter with a glass of wine, I am more emotional about those images than I could have imagined before the girls joined our life.
The laundry I folded before firing up this computer tonight held a little bit of everything from every member of our family. Seeing ruffled little girl socks next to big man boxers and teeny tiny washcloths piled close to full body towels, I smiled in spite of myself. Somewhere in the middle of one of the last to-do's of the day, I uncovered a quiet truth. Our life was right there in front of me - fluffy and fresh - and I had a hand in each little part of it.
It's easy for me to be blind to the uniqueness of each day, especially with sleep-deprived eyes. The normal stresses of life can narrow my focus so that I only see what's immediately in front of me. And yet what's in front of me is really, truly a miracle.
I just need to pay attention. Even when I'm only folding towels.
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