The Perfect Day

I listen to the faint rustle of the leaves as they fall to the ground. I breathe in the crisp autumn air and notice how it pierces my warm lungs...

...what a perfect day...

The laundry is piled up downstairs and I think there is a load in the dryer waiting to be folded. The kids had trashed the house with toys last night, and the sweeper needs run over the crumbs they got all over the living room. The front door is still standing open, the way my seven year old left it when she ran to catch the bus this morning. The dishes are done, and the kitchen is clean, though the bathroom still needs wiped down, the brushes and sprays need to be put away, and the clothes and towels need to be picked up and sent down to the basement to add still another load to the already immense pile of laundery...and yet...

...it's still a perfect day...

I didn't go to work today, it's my scheduled day off. I had plans...I always have plans. To go shopping; take my daughter to the swings; maybe do some visiting. But the housework needs done first. I hate to leave the house a mess, because when I return, it's still a mess. There is something satisfying about coming home and having it clean and in order, everything just where it should be. So we don't go, and I work inside. It's a neverending job because as I work in one room I can hear my daughter in the next room taking out toy after toy as she tries to decide what to play with. By the time that I finish she will want a nap, and I will want a bath. The time will slip by and I will realize that I have wasted...

...yet another perfect day...

I am still wearing the shirt I slept in, and the sweat pants that I picked up off the floor where I discarded them last night. My hair is pulled back in a hasty pony tail, and I am dying to take a bath. I am trying to wait and see if my two year old will take an early morning nap first. Otherwise I will have to deal with her trying to climb into the bathtub with me, clothes and all! I will end up having to undress her and let her come in with me, because I have absolutely no control over her when I am naked and wet in a tub of bubbles. She will want to splash and play and I will not get to soak and relax, so I wait...and as I wait I notice that the early morning has turned into early afternoon. I glance out the window and sigh...

...it's such a perfect day...

I step outside onto the porch and I can feel the cold creep through my socks. I listen to the faint rustle of the leaves as they fall to the ground. I breathe in the crisp autumn air and notice how it pierces my lungs...

...what a perfect day...

Frustrated that I am stuck inside, I step back into my warm house, I notice a marker cap laying on the floor and this is bad because somewhere there is a marker with the cap off. I hope it is not in the couch, leaking it's contents all over my white pillows. My tee-shirt is still cool against my skin, and only serves to remind me that yet again all my plans will go uncompleted. The baby is crying and the endtable is laying on it's side. I sigh. I was only outside for seconds. Just enough to take in a breath and enjoy the autumn air, but it seems this too cannot be enjoyed without penalty. I bend down to pick up my daughter and quickly realize she needs her diaper changed. I carry her to the diaper table, and as I begin the not so enjoyable task at hand she makes "those eyes" at me and I can't help but laugh. My laughter causes her face to erupt into a wrinkled nose, open mouthed, all out belly laugh and her eyes dance. I make faces at her to keep her laughing, and laugh all the harder as she tries to imitate me. I finish changing her and with a sudden burst of energy that has come out of nowhere I pick her up and dance around the room with her, singing made up words to a made up tune. She laughs harder still, and when I stop, she sings her own made up words, but matches the tune I was using. I realize she wants more so I give her more. Time flies by as we dance and play. And I forget all about the time, I forget to look out the window to remind myself not to miss...

...such a perfect day...

We cuddle on the couch, color, and play blocks on the floor. The baby never takes a nap; the laundry remains unfolded in the dryer; I'm still in the same clothes I slept in; and the bathroom hasn't even been touched...but it doesn't matter. She looks up at me as I kneel next to her in the living room surrounded by blocks, uncapped markers, and stuffed toys. My hair, fallen out of my pony tail, and hanging in my eyes doesn't seem to matter to her. She probably doesn't even notice my wrinkled tee-shirt as she puts her little hand on my shoulder and bringing her little face nose to nose with mine, looks me right in the eyes and says, "Ah lub you mummy". My heart swells. I smile as I put my forehead up against hers, look her right in the eyes and reply, "I lub you too baby". And in that moment I am hit with the realization that although we never left the house on some grand adventure, or even got to finish the chores that prevented the completion of those plans...I have in no way, shape or form wasted...

This Perfect Day.