Crazy Good Mornings

 These days, my mornings are nothing like the ones I used to imagine.

I dreamed of slow breakfasts, with me holding a classic novel in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. I pictured quiet moments, thoughtful conversations with my husband, a little peace before the day begins.

But no. Reality is two little monsters storming out of their bedroom wearing pajamas, crying loudly, "Mommy, come back to bed!"

Whenever I sneak out of bed in the wee hours of dawn to log in my morning runs or work on my echo backlogs, I hear sleepy voices demanding, "Mommy, don't go. Cuddle me!" They want to hug. They want to cuddle. And because there are two of them, they fill both my arms. Their sleepy bodies cling to me like I’m the only safe place they know. And I stay. Because they need me. And maybe, I need them too.

The rest of the morning unfolds in beautiful chaos: a kindergartener who insists on having pizza instead of a cheese sandwich, a toddler who refuses to take a bath for nursery school. There’s loud singing, hip-jiggling to songs they invent on the spot. Toys everywhere. Ribbons and scrunchies mark their tiny, joyful territory. Butterfly kisses. Bear hugs. Sticky hands and tearful goodbyes.

I am not rich in material things, and I am ordinary when it comes to career milestones. I cannot even have slow, quiet mornings. 

But in my life, joy overflows. These chaotic mornings, these messy little humans, this house filled with shrieks and laughter, show me that love thrives in both mayhem and drab. I offer a quiet prayer, take a deep breath, and soak it all in: the noise, the chaos, the mess, and the magic.

And I realize: I am the richest human being in the universe.