My days are so normal, sometimes they aren’t even worth blogging about.
Elevator music.
I live this true, gritty, who’s-going-to-take-out-the-trash life, in which my bedroom is a constant repository for clean piles of laundry and kids’ dvds. It is where I have a giant basket full of unmatched socks and a weight bench that is rarely used. My life is so true and regular that it is either charged with stress and adrenaline or so tedious I fall asleep at 2:15 in the afternoon.
My weekday mornings run together in an endless stream of market trips, gym workouts, snack-picnics at the park and toddler play classes. My afternoons are filled with the school pickup line, power naps on the living room sofa, loading the dishwasher from breakfast, refereeing Kindergarten yells and toddler shrieks in the backyard and usually a mad rush to begin dinner sometime around 4:47. Only the weekend brings a reprieve.
Its like the CD I have in my car that I haven’t changed since Christmas. When I get in, it plays. When I get out, it stops. And when I get in again, it picks up where it left off. It is a never ending circle of normal music that my kids know and I sing in my head when I am in line at Target.
I am far from perfect. I throw down hairbrushes because I can’t take another, YOU’RE HURTING MY HAIR!!! I pile papers on my table and shove things under my bed I can’t stand looking at any longer, and I am putting off potty-training because I am lazy. I raise my voice too much, I snap at my husband and I watch “Hell’s Kitchen.” This is me. This is the symphony I am writing.
It is normal, and real and sometimes it looks tedious.
But then, once in awhile, the regular notes of the day come together to make something sweet and perfect. There is a swell.
The light and air are just right in my bedroom in the evening before bed. The day has faded and I can’t read the recipe in my magazine any longer. The cool air is coming in the open window and it is beginning to smell sweet like the sage outside. Hope is nestled in her sea of books and horses on her bed and she is reading. She is quiet on the inside and outside. Chad has begun to play something on his guitar for Naomi. He is letting her strum while he holds the chords.
My life is still gritty, grimy and in need of a bath. And the downstairs trash still needs taken out. And I know that the same CD will be in my car tomorrow when I drive to school.
We are here together, and somehow the adrenaline and stress and elevator music of the day has been forgotten for a few minutes. And I feel quiet on the inside too. There is a swell in the life-symphony and it is beautiful.
i make my girls say “spaghetti” when i brush their hair, i cannot stand the owe,owwee, oowwee!! spaghetti to the tune of owe is funny (but sometimes they do not like to play my games).
this post is me today, cleaning in the a.m., before the day takes over. i think of how normal and tedious life is. i too think of what i have shoved into places… i think it is all snickering at me, telling me i can’t ignore it for long- ugghh. and i know and am reminded here that, “everything is sacred,” and that today i will glimpse some beauty, i do not want to miss it. i do not want to miss the swell in the symphony of life today.
thanks sarah.
back to laundry and language!
Thank you so much for your comment on my blog! I wanted you to know that I read your whole weight loss story yesterday and it really touched me!
I have a weight loss story of my own. Although, it’s been only recently – in the last year – and was the result of a combination of things with my thyroid, high cholesterol, and more details I won’t go into. My endocrinologist put me on a vegetarian diet and I became more physically active than ever before. With it came a 30 pound weight loss and now I’m right where I need to be – a picture of health I always wanted but was never determined enough to achieve.
My story is different in that I feel in all this it has brought me closer to God. I have learned how to love myself enough – the way He loves me – to take care of myself and treat my body to the exercise it deserves.
I love what you said, though, and it reminded me to never let my health or physical body become more important than my God.
You’ll be happy to know that my husband and I have decided to start “trying” for kids in June.
Hahaha…that comment about your daughter telling you to stop brushing her hair because it hurts – that reminds me so much of my sister when we were little!
God bless,
Danielle
it’s so nice to hear about the everyday nitty-gritty as you call it. i know other people have piles of stuff and dust like i do, but it’s always nice to hear about it. especially when it’s so beautifully expressed. after reading your piece, i am inspired to be on the lookout for the symphony in today. thank you!
Today’s music to my ears?
U cause me to listen. (listening)
Sounds of the:
Dryer (click…click..buzz)
Humm of the a/c and the spinning of the ceiling fan..hmm sounds like my two toddlers napping (finally), me thinks I should join them for a power nap.
Yes I’m right there with you.
Have you seen “August Rush”..it’s cool how he “hears” a symphony in life..made me think.
Like this post~ Dawn :0)
Lovely, tender post. I find it hard leaving your comments, because your posts are so beautiful, I just don’t know how to respond.
Okay. This one should be in one of those mom’s magazines. Seriously.
Hey, I use that weight bench all the time!!!!
Ok, I lied.
i love those moments where you have to stop and reflect and soak in the beauty of ‘normalcy’. thanks for your words.
And you just described my life…
beautifully I might add.
Love your blog.
Beautiful Sarah! I think this is one of my favorite posts you have written. You eloquently and beautifully describe life as a mother.
I do believe you described my day today. But in a very beautiful way that made me stop and appreciate the preschoolers singing at my feet and my sweet husband cradling my youngest with a belly full of milk. Thank you for helping me see the day differently.
Sweet Sarah whom I’ve never met and lives far away,
As intimidated as I often am by your blog I could not not comment today. What beauty there is in your words. Thank you one thousand times for sharing.
VERY well written. I love how you use the music theme throughout your description, yet it is not overdone. You make my sometimes mundane life sound beautiful.
All I can think of is, ME TOO! I once slammed down the big spatula when I heard “I don’t LIKE that!” as I cooked dinner. The head flew off and hit the wall. Yikes!
Oh, and I watch Hell’s Kitchen too.
Maybe that’s why I slammed the spatula down.
You are fantastic…I wish I could put into words, my life, like you do on a daily basis..how do you do that. This is my life, down to the letter…just beautiful. Thank you.
Oh, how this post seems to resonate my life. It is often mundane, and filled with my impatience for things like the “hair pulling,” but every once in awhile we have a moment of peace where everyone is smiling and singing to the same tune. Thanks.
I am so glad to know someone is living normal life too.
-Andrea
Love this one! (do I always say that?)
I was talking to Jenni (above) about your writing today. I am always moved and have loved getting to know you and your girls through your writing.
and ps, your family is GORGEOUS!!
One of the things I love the most about my own mother is that she was there for all the “normal” as well as the great swells. She was called to make music with me for a season and she did it with joy. I love the idea of a symphony… life isn’t mundane, there are just calm, difficult, exciting, beautiful moments all mixed into one grand song.
That may be one of my favorite posts of yours. If only because I can relate in such a real way. I love how you can put real life moments…ones that somehow seem indescribable… into words.