It does not get better than this.

Oh man, what a morning!  Sometimes stuff just works out so beautifully, and I am so grateful to be in a place at this moment where I can appreciate it.  I need something heavier than a period to finish that sentence, because an exclamation point is the wrong energy. So, I'll bold the period.

"... and I am so grateful to be in a place at this moment where I can appreciate it."

Does it... Nah it didn't do it.

Anyway, things are just normal.  Gemma was warm enough yesterday that she left her coat at school when she came home, which means she doesn't have it this morning.  We all smell like smoke because Russ burned a cardboard box in the fireplace last night that was big enough that he had to use the poker to keep it inside the fireplace, but in pushing it inside, he pushed the flu lever back and shut it, smoking us all out. It was already so late when it happened that no one had time to shower.  Wyatt had a basketball game last night (we finally won!!!), which means he gets a kid-sized Gatorade "to keep his energy up" and he has a persistent blue Charlie Chaplain 'stash this morning.  

Georgia leaves early because she is in Middle School which starts at an offensive hour, but she had to leave her Hot Pocket in the microwave because she didn't want the carpool to wait any extra moments for her to get it out after last night. (She is in the school musical, Beauty and the Beast, which is performing this week.  She is in another carpool for this, which contains all of the kids from her school carpool who are also in the musical- 4 out of the 6 kids.)  She is usually very punctual and reliable, like any oldest daughter, but like any human, she very occasionally loses track of time, and in the 20 minutes of free time she had between getting home from school yesterday and her carpool pickup for call-time, she lost track of time.  The Musical-Carpool which sounds much more fun than it is, had to wait nearly 60 full seconds for her to open the door to alert them to her motivation toward them, allaying concerns that she would make them late. You know, the whole energy of carpools.  Like it would be for any [middle school aged oldest] daughter, this was devastating.  Mortifying.  Worthy of profound apology.

So, when the coincidentally, same carpool mom hit her brakes this morning to slow to a stop in front of our little Ranch House, the door was open and Georgia Rachel Kirton was exiting the house in a gesture that said, "Breakfast be darned, I care about your time, and shan't cause the collective You to be tardy, again.  You have my word."  It was something of a triumph.  ...Even if every shred of it was in our heads.  I'm sure it was not.

I went back to bed until the Elementaries needed to get up.

Today, they did get up.  On their own.   I don't know why, but I am grateful.

Russ got up and got his breakfast lava envelope in the microwave, wearing clothes that were not from yesterday (win!).  Wyatt got up, got dressed in clean adorable clothes, and re-heated Georgia's cast-off ham-and cheese (waste-not!).  Gemma got up, got dressed, and came upstairs smiling.  There was 1 Hot Pocket left (Man, I love symmetry).

I checked in with Russell if he had been afraid during the bustle of the fire last night.  I had left the room to get fans to move the air in a Bernoulli effect so we wouldn't smell as barbequed, and the fire got so hot while he was standing there that the fire-lighter he had used actually melted significantly.  He said he hadn't- that he was just using the poker to keep the fire in the fireplace and actually felt a bit excited at the something-out-of-the-ordinary.  I told him how glad I was and how proud I was, and I thanked him for being someone we can count on.  He beamed with pride.  This is a new thing for this sweet, truly tender, young soul.

I brushed everyone's hair while we chatted and laughed, and they ate their breakfast.  I alerted Wyatt to his blue mustachio, and he tried to clean it off, but it wouldn't go.  He didn't mind.  When Russ left to walk to school with his friend, he left smiling and telling he loves me, and Wyatt hopped up to walk with them.  I don't want to brag, but I guess he also loves me?  I mean, I'm blushing, here, but I'm not making it up.  They left on time.  Together.  Happy, and ready for a great day.

Then Gemma decided she wanted to head out also.  Her heavy coat is at school, and it's before sun-up on a January morning in the Rocky Mountains.  She is sure she'll be warm enough.  We grab her big rainbow umbrella to protect against the Alexal prophecy of flurries, and I grab a sweatshirt that is hanging on the back of the couch, just for an extra layer.  The walk isn't far, but it's cold out there, Punxatawny.  She grabs her little cuffs so that they don't bunch up in the sleeves of her sweatshirt and I read the word on the chest of the zip-up that says "Cherished".  I say, "Cherished.  That's you.  You are Cherished."  She says, "What does 'cherished' mean?"  I say, "Its liked loved, but even more.  You are more than loved, you are cherished."  And I kiss her soft perfect little freckles.

My bright and not really a morning person little firecracker says, with all the good nature of an apple meant for a teacher, "Well, I'd better get going!" and then, "I cherished you, mom!" and runs off into the dawning light of the best morning that none of us will probably remember unless I write it down.

I watched her go, just wanting any additional seconds of this seraphic sweetness that I could possibly grasp.  Then I cried and prayed in an actual prayer to Almighty God, "Thank you, for such a beautiful morning.  In the name of Jesus Christ, thank you."

What can I say?  What can I even say? I am so humbled by the surprise of this wholly unanticipated joy. It makes me want to quilt the scene somehow in a wall-sized scene of conviviality, like the fateful tapestry in Brave.  With jewel tones, sprinkled heavily with bright yellows and golds to show the magic.

Wow. <3