“Friend” I smile sleepily, he called me his friend. He loves being with me, sharing a life, a home, a family, a mission, and about a thousand dreams.
I closed my eyes once more as he stoked my cheek, and I wondered to myself “How is it that I am so loved? How is it that I am so happy? How is it that my heart is so full of delight as I wake up every morning? How is it that my heart is so full of peace as I fall asleep beside my husband in this room with yellow walls, in this house with seven children, in this marriage of ten years, in this Victorian home on Main Street?”
This morning sunlight did not fill my room like other mornings, rain was falling, and the air was chilly and fresh. Some mornings I feel like I am waking up on the wrong planet, this morning felt just like home should.
One by one the children came to great me with their morning exclamations. Baby Laura was still sleeping on my chest when my husband, Joshua, awoke me with his sweet words. Laura’s blue eyes blinked, then opened wide. Then she smiled, who needs sunshine when baby Laura is in the room? Then she whispered “Da-da” and two hearts melted, as her Daddy swooped her into his arms and climbed out of bed.
A few moments later little Susannah, the two year old, pitter-pattered into my room, climbed up into the big bed, snuggled under the warm covers and said “Twinkle Star?” I spent the next five minutes singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, just the two of us, while the sounds of morning echoed though the house.
My husband was up and had already fetched some Joe's O's for baby Laura. Now I could hear him calling to the children upstairs. “I'm making bacon and eggs and none of you are going to eat until your rooms are clean and the beds are made.” The kids were excited about breakfast, we only have bacon about once a year, and last night Daddy did the shopping, he was proud to bring home organic, uncured bacon, it was on sale.
Naomi, our three year old, always cooks the eggs. In fact she will go out into the backyard, and hunt for the duck eggs herself. The ducks are always finding new spots for their nests. The only help Naomi needs is turning on the stove. She's also been known to round up the goat, bring her to the milking stand on the back porch and milk her, but only if there is no milk in the refrigerator. Helping in the kitchen is Naomi's joy. Lately she's been insisting on washing the dishes too.
Anna our oldest daughter, she's eight, was the next child to appear on the scene. “Dad! Rachel is doing it again! She told me that she needs to take a little rest before she helps clean the room, and she won't help me!”
“Rachel! Come down here!” Josh calls.
Little Susannah began hopping on the bed, asking to sing “Twinkle Star” again and again and again.
Daddy interrupted Susannah's song to tell me that the mice stole the cheese from the mouse trap. “The cheap traps work better, but this new kind is much easier to set!” And then he was back to the Kitchen, and we were singing again.
“Hi there little Frog!” I heard my husband say.
“Daddy! I'm not a frog. I'm a turtle!” Seven year old Estera proclaimed.
“Okay, little Turtle. Do you know where Susie's clean clothes are? Go upstairs and pick out an outfit for your sister.”
“Good morning Isaac, sleepy-head.” I heard my husband's voice once again, as our nine year old son joined the morning buzz around the house. “Put on your shoes, you need to bring up the trash cans, oh, and we are out of firewood.”
“Daddy!” Anna yelled, “There's a mouse in this trap! Mom! Come here quick! Mooooom!”
I climbed out of bed to join the family, and see last night's catch. A fat little mouse indeed.
“Don't touch it Naomi!” Anna ordered, in her best mommy voice, “Now go wash your hands!”
My husband smiled at the chaos all around us and kissed me again as he handed Susannah a banana, not noticing that she already had one. “Two! Two Nananas!” Susannah cheered.
As usual the floor was feeling a little “crunchy” under my feet. I had a feeling someone had gotten into the sugar. I began looking for my shoes, but couldn't find them, so I grabbed my son's hiking boots instead. I was amazed at the thought that I wear the same size shoes as my nine year old son! Wasn't he just a baby? Then he walked in the room, muddy foot prints behind him, a load of fire wood in his arms and a proud smile on his face, he was wearing my shoes!