A life. Less. Ordinary.

As our oldest settles into his new routine, slowly I do too.

A life. A quiet life.And how why and what it is that holds me near to home at 2pm everyday. And 12pm for the second. And 12am as I cuddle the third

With less of many things that surrounds us.

Ordinary. A life filled with.. ordinary.

The ordinary pause when we are present.

In moment. My 3 moments. Four almost. I have come to recognise. And slow for. Wait for. Long for. And how why and what it is that holds me near to home at 2pm everyday. And 12pm for the second. And 12am as I cuddle the third

The ordinary dawn as we sit waiting for schoolbus. Him n I. Feet swinging. The briskness of air just before light breaks. He beams in mornings as though he knows all the incredible Joyful secrets of life. My 6 year old. The brimming overspilliNG joy.

Why are you so happy?

“just cause. Mama you are here warming my hands and we laugh. Or trying to balance on 1 leg. Or a suddenly I remember a Very important song I have to sing. Or a story at school to tell you before I forget because I forget more things now that I am older. Or something.”

It is just us. There is no rushing. no one else. not another thing. Just him n I until 6.04am where we wave madly, our goodbyes for the 8 hours.

My 12pm as my second catches the first sight of me. From his school bus. The light happy leap into my arms. All complete trust bounding together that abandoned wilderness within all 3 year old. He jumps. Every single time into my arms. Hi mama. I’m back!

My 2am. Once in Misery. So much fatigue. Now it all pales under the quiet knowledge of these being the last of. Last of littlest cuddles. Cries of bewilderment or hunger. Small fists grabbing the imprinted scents of comfort. Nights with my last newborn. And I hold her differently. Tenderly holding time. Respectfully. Gently. Wishfully.

Ordinary life. That I will miss dearly. Already.

A life with less on the drawing board.

Recently

The oldest has complained loudly and dramatically. I am so so bored I could scoop water out of the sea. Or name all the dinosaurs no one has found. Or fine I shall just keep throwing my hands up in the air

After which he wondered how animals are named since Adam is dead and new animals are still being discovered. Of which we changed the question to a more relevant question of:

How would we classify a monster.

How they look and whether they can fly.

What type of people they eat. says no. 2

How we can kill them. shouted the newly resurrected oldest who had died by boredom just moments ago

A I realise increasing. As we define and then discover boundaries, the little minds rushes in brownian motion and strips down all ideals with a scrapping knife in the hands of a child.

What life would you like

I asked. Because sometimes mama forgets what she wanted to do.

(Because you are getting too old again mama? )

My 6am said : I want to have breakfast with you every morning. And I can do anything I want n it will make enough money. Not too much. But enough so I can have so much time to eat breakfast with u

My 12pm said

I want to stay in our house. And your bed. And I will drive when I am 5 years old so you can rest already you know.

Isn’t it boring? We do the same thing everyday.

Side to side synchronised Little cranial rotations.

Its always bedtime you know mama. N I haven’t finish. And I have to waste time n brush my teeth. And eat dinner. But I love it.

Me too! I love it before you love it OK!!  And I also want to sit in the bath tub everyday (oh my second born!)

But maybe one day we can visit Where toothless lives with hiccup. Or we can just go to the playground Later and pretend. With picnic. And I can pretend to bite your leg off also. Second born offered.

 

A life. Together. with less. Far less than what I expected for their universe.

How Ordinary as I write these conversations. Yet how I feel roots anchoring my life with these little precious few words.

A life less ordinary.