I was flicking through photo albums, earlier on in the week, avoiding the daily duties of making beds, washing, etc. SInce becoming a parent I seem to have acquired a obsessive need for order In my home.
Beds made. Bathrooms spotless. Washing . Dusting. Vacuuming, and other ridiculous things that I will spare you . ( I will say that I have gotten better)
I had been for my walk, and for me this is the time where I do my best thinking , and where I seem to hear the inner chit chat that goes on , my inner critic.
Over the years my inner critic has managed to drown out the good things, and swallow me up .
Other events have also done that, which I intend to share, but for today I am sharing a snipet of how easy it is to take an ordinary day for granted, and miss it terribly when it's gone.
I packed lunchbox for Elisha , uniform on, pancakes served, and made my first cup of coffee !!!!
Ate breakfast, school drop off . Got back home. ( not quite as smooth, but mission accomplished)
Got home light my cigarette and made my second cup of coffee.
I browsed through my phone and as I was flicking through facebookii was grabbed by a link that had been shared ' The gift of an ordinary day ' . Immediately I clicked on the link where this lady was sharing her account of being s mum and the many lessons over the years.
Pictures of her sons appeared, a younger image of her with her sons, trips away and in the background her take on those intimate moments captured , and ones that hadn't, but stored in her memory bank.
I pulled out the albums. Ultrasounds. Pregnancy tests. I immediately shared the post and pictures of my memories, and realised suddenly how an ordinary day, was suddenly an extrodinary day.
How the morning wasn't just about morning drop off. It would be a memory that would be stored in my memory . 💕💕