Today was a normal day. I made breakfast. I folded clothes. I went to the lighting store, to Lowe's, to the grocery store. I nursed a baby.
I ate my mom's rhubarb pie fresh from the oven. I told a story that my dad tried to ruin by telling the punchline mid-way through my story.
I walked over to Sarah's to see the progress on their basement. I ate peas from her garden and then waffles Jason made for dinner. I talked Jules down (up?) from a meltdown, talked with Sydney about VBC, convinced Addie to go to sleep in her crib.
I folded more clothes, watched the results show for So You Think You Can Dance, edited some photos.
Today's normal meant Jason got paid. It's what normally happens on the last day of the month.
Last June 30th there was no paycheck. It was the new kind of normal we had learned to live with for the school year. We had found out he would have a job for the new school year, but he didn't get paid for the summer.
Last year, a normal summer day meant we enjoyed it with my Uncle Don. This year we won't.
Last year, normal meant a family of four. This year, normal means Sydney, Julianne and Adelynn.
Normal days are ever in flux, but we know when we don't have them. Sometimes we are lucky enough to experience the elusive Amazing Day--the day we get married, the day we have a baby, go to Hawaii, get a job. Sometimes, though, normalcy slips through our fingers with a phone call, a flat tire, a fire, a broken heart. And we wish we could wind back the clock to when everything was normal again.
let me be aware of the treasure you are...
Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow.
One day I shall dig my nails into the earth,
or bury my face in my pillow,
or stretch myself taught,
or raise my hands to the sky,
and want, more than all the world, your return." --Mary Jean Iron
Today was a normal day. And I was thankful.