In Praise of Ordinary

We're getting there. Abigail is still in a splint and Simon will be missing his teeth for a few years, but we have relaxed a bit from our collective states of accident ridden panic. And the house still looks like we fled bleeding from it a couple times this month (no blood just more chaotic than normal), but 7 (I mistakenly called it 17, perhaps because that is how it felt) trips to the doctor in a month creates chaos.

Anyway, this isn't meant to be a poor me post but a post where I can say that

listening to the birds and the locusts without watching the clock to be somewhere on time is kinda nice.

having play date and letting Abigail be four with her friends and the talking with friends is relief.

watching a caterpillar eat, talking about a caterpillar poop, and naming a caterpillar Louie while being certain it is a girl is fun. 

waiting as a caterpillar changes to a butterfly is promise.

making dinner, walking with the family, bath time, baking blueberry tarts, and reading a good book aloud is pleasure.

checking the garden, wondering what to do with the gift of produce, and dishes waiting their turn in the washer is abundance.

 Yep, this has been a extraordinary month in a tragic sort of way. It makes me oh-so-grateful for the ordinary