"The thing about chaos, is that while
it disturbs us,
it too, forces
our hearts to roar
in a way we secretly find
magnificent.
-Christopher Poindexter
Girl Scout cookies just may be the death of me.
These boys may also be the death of me.
Triplet boys.
Who all require Caitlin's undivided attention.
Doesn't look like she minds much.
This is how ladies sit when they eat Cheetos.
So delicate and dainty with orange stained fingers and cheeks.
We all have our bad days.
We are sometimes purposely late for school.
Because mom had to close and didn't really see them all day.
Off to Starbucks for a cookie and some tea.
No one remembers tardies, everyone remembers cookies.
Snuggles are the cure for everything that ails.
Fro-yo cannot be fully enjoyed unless you make a mess.
That is scientific fact.
Hearing her little voice sing "Yellow Submarine" makes my heart swoon.
I hope she grows up with music in her heart.
And one day has her own personal soundtrack.
Proof of a morning without tears, without fights, without drama.
Proof that we can have good mornings.
Especially if those mornings are Fridays.
California mornings can be crazy cool, with high temps in the afternoon.
Good thing we can transition well.
Bedhead and sprinkles are a great start to a great Saturday.
A cluttered kitchen table will not stop us.
She asked to bake cupcakes after watching YouTube videos.
It wasn't even nine in the morning, but I said yes anyway.
Because I miss her terribly when I have to work an evening shift
followed by a morning shift.
Because I say "no" too much.
Because these are the mornings she will remember.
Thankfully I'm a cake mix hoarder and had some funfetti from Christmas.
They said "Mommy take our picture".
They never say that.
I was trying to get the perfect picture for St. Patrick's Day.
Instead I got this.
This is better than perfect.
And in the midst of all the chaos we try to carve out time for us.
Sometimes that means late night movies in bed.
Or late night texting when he's out of town.
But in the chaos of it all we still try.
