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Tuesday, August 6, 2013


If you really want a glimpse into my life, stand in my stairwell.

8:35 a.m.


My house is a single-story floor plan with a finished basement.  Because of the heat, the bedrooms are all downstairs for the summer.  Most of the toys are also downstairs, as is the laundry room.  Which is to say, I spend a lot of my day going up and down the stairs.

9:45 a.m. (I'm walking up with a basket of laundry).
Just in front of the stairwell is the wall that joins the common areas.  The children's book shelf lives there, between the kitchen table and the couch.  So does the high chair.
From that spot, you can technically stay in the kitchen with your drink and still see the tv.  You can also crawl around and peruse leftovers from your sister's snacks.  Every kid around here would agree it's the best spot in the house. 
And I stare up at it all day long.


9:55 a.m. (the basket of laundry has already been claimed for nobler purposes).
So yesterday, every time I opened the door to the stairwell, I picked up my phone, and tried to capture what I saw. 


12:25 p.m.  Why clean up the Cheerios from lunch? The baby's got it covered.

Living with small children is like watching one of those videos where a camera stands still, while nature moves in fast forward all around it.  The sun rises, flowers grow, butterflies zoom, the sun sets, the moon emerges, flowers close again, all in twenty seconds.  Such is a day spent with small children.

3:18 p.m.
For one day I did my best to stand still and just watch life happen.  Without hurrying to my next task, without even rescuing the baby (if it could be helped) - just observing the day, flowering and buzzing and closing again at warp speed. 

5:47 p.m.  My best friend is feeding the baby.
I noticed the light on the table and my baby's chubby toes.  The sibling-like camaraderie between my daughter and the dog (how had I missed that?).  I saw the late afternoon sun falling on my sons, cowboy boots and ninja pants perched side by side, the ease of my sweet friend as she nurtured my baby.  


dinner time.  I love the baby's toes, and the shadow of my son's fork.  This may be my favorite.
For one day, I watched my own life, opening and closing in all of its silliness and clatter and unnatural speed.

8:58 p.m.  Closed and cleaned, ready to begin again.
While I stood still on the stairwell.



3 comments:

  1. really love this idea - executed marvelously!
    I think Emmy in the laundry is my favorite :)
    how is looking at her not like looking in the mirror?! she looks JUST LIKE YOU <3

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you! I love that picture too.
      You know, she does look like me, but she is so clearly her own little person that sometimes I forget that we look alike at all.

      Delete

 

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