Today

was a day I could re-live several times and never grow tired.

I have no sensational stories or events to retell. Today just seemed uncommonly great. It was full of forgettable normalcy... piles of clothes to be sorted, occasionally whiny children, unloading and loading the dishwasher...

But time seemed to be moving just right. I somehow avoided any moments of panic or exhaustion. In fact, I think time actually slowed for a few moments in the late morning while Sophie and Maya and I laid and rolled and crawled and ran in the sunny grass ...all of us laughing uncontrollably. We played with our 'pop-up' tent, pretending it was our house and later a drive-thru ice-cream shop (Maya kept ordering a 'sausage bar'?? She hates sausage).

The day ended with a surprise date. Uninterrupted conversations, a bit of quiet, dinner at 'the Pie Company' (where Ryan convinced me of the superiority of the 'French Dip') and a rare trip to the mall for some new jeans and a classic black shirt.

But the day began with an amazing sleep, waking to the sun...and happy girls. Since we have no milk and very little of anything else in the fridge, the girls and I splurged on breakfast at Toast-n-Jams. Our table was loud and messy and fun. And the woman sitting nearby was kind and friendly to Sophie who really never stopped staring at her and waving.

We met a new friend at the library who just turned three. Her grandparents and I tried hard to convince the giggly girls that the library was supposed to be a place for quiet reading. While they played and shared some puzzles, "Selena's" grandpa and I shared stories of our Finnish family heritages and the Upper Peninsula, copper mines, and Drummond Island.

Ryan was eagerly welcomed home for lunch. (Egg salad sandwiches--not my favorite..but one of his favorites from childhood.)

After lots of new stories from the library, the girls napped...for hours. And I cleaned and did laundry. And I actually liked it. I didn't finish. But...there's tomorrow. Right?

While the girls slept in their rooms on either side of me, I sat in the hallway upstairs, folding their clothes. Someone once told me a story about sitting with a mother in a hospital...a mother who was losing her daughter...talking (weeping, actually) about going home and seeing her little girls laundry. And so I've never been grumpy about folding their tiny clothes. It's actually one household task that's always held a unique pleasure for me. I think I'll have to keep telling myself that...until they're old enough to fold their own clothes! (smile)