As a stay at home mum there are so many days that blend into each other. Days without any major highlight or lowlight. Average days playing the usual games or watching the same cartoons. Days when we don’t go out and I can’t remember how we passed all the time when J gets home. I love these days.
I love the comfortable silences playing with A and her play dough. I love talking to her while we have lunch and her chattering back to me. I love sitting on the sofa watching morning cartoons in our pjs. I love putting her down for a nap without a fuss and then making supper and chatting to friends while she sleeps. I love when she wakes up and runs out of the room to give me a hug. I love how she screams in excitement and hops up and down when she hears her dad at the front door. But I won’t remember these days.
I will remember the feeling but not what we actually did. I won’t be able to differentiate today’s average day from last Tuesday’s average day. And that makes me so sad. These in-between days are just as precious to me as the amazing days and way more than the crappy days. But I won’t remember them. And that breaks my heart.