This morning was a little rough . . . not a terrible day by any means, just a little rough. One child decided not to do her morning chores until the rest of us were eating breakfast, so she had to miss breakfast.
(No worries. I gave her a nice hunk of homemade bread to keep her from starving.)
Another child talked back rather a lot.
The baby's bottom was burned raw from a bowel movement he must have had in the night and knew nothing about until this morning, so he wept copiously and my heart hurt as I cleaned him off.
Another child missed her shower because she overslept.
No great tragedies, just enough to make me take a deep breath and hope that the day would smooth out.
And it did.
By 9:15 am I was standing at the counter kneading bread dough with the baby in the backpack on my back. My four littlest girls were making paper bag puppets, helping and loving one another as they worked. My biggest girl was plowing through some Personal Progress goals, and my M10 was happily reserving books on the library website.
I breathed deeply again . . . this time in gratitude.
Perfect moments keep me going through all the rest of the imperfect moments that make up most of life.
Perfect moments are small and rare, but we had one today.