It often feels like we just run from thing to thing to thing without much breathing room (I'm sure you know just what I mean). From school to work to dance to scouts to shopping to birthday parties and homework and doctors and holidays and everything else -- sometimes things feel pretty wild.
So, when a moment makes me slow down and remember the magic that always lazily encircles my home and family I think it is something worth noting.
The other night I was making dinner. Ellie kept asking me how to spell the names of friends from her class because she was practicing her mad letter/sound/spelling skills by building the names in letter tiles on our table.
She was kind of frustrated with me because I wasn't giving her as much attention as she wanted (cooking does require at least a modicum of my focus). I had a hard time hearing her through the clank of pots and the search for spices and she had a hard time hearing and understanding me for the same reason (Ellie: Did you say 'e' Me: No, I said 'p'...repeat ad nauseum). We were two ships passing verbal letters to each other across the noisy night. It wasn't exactly pretty.
Enter the 16 year old.
Seriously, what kind of 16 year old boy does that sort of thing? I was pretty proud of both of my babies (the biggest baby and the babiest baby).
Not every moment in our house is this full of enchantment. We have our squabbles (and our full blown fights), we deal with drama, and grades, and hurt feelings, and messes, and misunderstandings, and all the other sticky stuff. But that makes it all the more important that we slow down enough to notice the tiny un-troubled times when they bubble to the surface unexpectedly.
See, it really was a little sprinkle of magic.