I felt boring this morning when I tried to write a blog post. I had just collected a stool sample and I mourned for you, readers, because shouldn’t you be reading about great adventures, or at least something less gross?
Then, I mourned for me, because my life is boring AND gross, and not blog worthy and yet here I am stuck with a blog and the need to write, and all I had was…poop. So I did what I do when I get writer’s block and I recorded what was going on in my house at that VERY MINUTE. This is what was happening as I mooned about:
The children are coloring pumpkins with markers. The markers do not say Washable on them, so my kitchen table and I are probably in for a world of hurt. We must make sacrifices in the name of art.
Sheldon is really enjoying himself. His fingers are bright green and his pumpkin is virtually untouched, but he’s very intent on putting the lid on the marker, dropping it, saying “UH OH!” loudly until I get out of my chair and hand him the lid, then he puts it on, then he takes it off. It’s part of the process, I guess.
I am washing Q’s car seat cover, it’s thunking around in the machine. Yesterday he dumped a large quantity of chocolate milk all over himself, his chair, and the car. Speaking of yesterday, I’m still recovering.
Yesterday we left the house at 7:30 a.m. and I darkened my door again at 5 p.m.
In light of yesterday, which included a lot of driving and a two hour doctor appointment, today and it’s stool sample seems like paradise.
It’s nice to be home.
Shel is singing a song, Q is raving about the garbage man (the hero of three year olds everywhere), and it’s a good day.
Did you see it? Somewhere between the pumpkin “craft” of the lazy woman and the complaint about yesterday, I found my gratitude. I realized that I had two of the most adorable people sitting behind me, singing and marking up more than pumpkins.
Today’s post proves how easy it is to miss the wonder at the end of one’s nose. Life is special, especially when it’s ordinary. Don’t miss it.