Quiet mornings.

The other morning at about 7:30am, I had one of those moments, one of those "Lee Smith" moments where I realized, "This is my life, this is my real life, and I am living it."  I don't even remember where I found that quote anymore, the one in my sidebar, but I remembered it on this particular morning, overcast and chilly outside.  The dogs had both eaten and were curled up in their respective favorite spots, snoozing away.  Bananas were sliced, Cream of Buckwheat was simmering on the stove under the kitchen's dim lights.  I looked over at Steven who was writing in his journal, and in the best way possible, I thought, "This is it."

So many things are up in the air for us, from the baby coming, to Steven's job, to family situations.  But this is my life, and I love it.  I am thankful for its imperfections and that I have moments where I can stop and realize that this is the life I want, not another more glamorous or perfect one.  And that is saying a lot for an idealist like me.

Back to the moment...the tea kettle whistles for Steven's hot tea, and the oven timer signals that breakfast is ready.  I grab two bowls and place an open book face-down at the spot where I'll be sitting to eat.  This, to me, is perfect.

Oh, how I treasure these quiet mornings now, while I can, when the only sounds are the swish of my book pages turning and the gentle bubbling of hot cereal on the stove.