Some Days...

Some days are perfect for playing football. Which, if you ask my boys, would be every day.

Some days are best spent enjoying the playground - or napping in a stroller. And when the above boys are playing football at the same time? A great day for me because I get to enjoy coffee on a bench for a peaceful few minutes until someone wants to swing and needs me to push her. Again and again and again. And again.

Some days are meant to be baking days. Usually every Wednesday around here, unless there are really ripe bananas on the counter that are begging to be put in bread for dinner that evening.

Some days are boys against girls. Clearly the boys are happy about this and the girl is not. Better to learn this sooner rather than later, Sweetheart.

Some days call for messy creativity. Creativity that keeps everyone quietly occupied for a long time and that requires a multitude of trips to the bathroom sink for hand washing.

Some days call for messy creativity, but the kind that makes a mother's eyes bulge, her palms sweat, and her heart race. You know the kind: you tactfully praise and encourage but internally cringe and hyperventilate about.

Some days are for tummy time. For getting a new perspective on life and seeing things from a new angle. All the while, of course, looking cute.

Some days are all about learning. With questions. With all the senses. With interest.

Some days involve lots of cuddling. Big brothers are good at giving March Madness play-by-plays and a Daddy lap is great for an evening pillow.

And someday, someday sooner than I imagine, I'm going to look at my babies and wonder where the time went and if I gave them my best.