A Common Life

So much of my life right now involves moments of routine, repetition and the mundane. Wake up, serve breakfast, get kids dressed, attend appointments/drop offs, make lunch, set up kids in rest time, make dinner, bathtime, bedtime.

Often, you would be forgiven for mistaking days that merge into one – weeks that pass by without a huge degree of difference. It is a common life, a stage where you can predict the types of battles and struggles that will arise. There is nothing epic or dramatic about it usually – unless someone manages to hurt themselves or throw a particularly juicy tantrum.

If you had showed me a video of the type of life I would lead when I was planning for my future as a lawyer, I’m not sure how I would react. I’m conservative by nature and well-suited to repetitive tasks – able to find meaning in the small things, willing to perform chores over and over to find the most efficient system. Yet there are still days which drive me crazy, moments that frustrate me no end, and a house that seems perpetually in chaos even where I have dedicated a fair portion of my day to keeping it in order.

I’m learning more and more that life can be found in the midst of these seemingly banal moments. Catching unsuspecting boys earnestly being Rescue Bots – lifting plastic tools into the air to ‘Power up and Energise!’ Watching Ivy carefully buckle in her Barbies to their car seats, take them out again and begin the process over. Moments that I will no doubt feel a pang over when memories hit later. What seems common now, may in fact transform over time to become inestimably precious.

This post is part of the Five Minute Friday challenge that I’m participating in along with a talented community of other writers. We free write for five minutes each Friday in accordance with a prompt. Today’s prompt is ‘common’. 

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16 comments

  1. Loved this, Emma. You’re absolutely right – the precious graces are most deeply present in the mundane.

    Thank you for your comment on my post this evening; the illness is not one I will survive, and it makes every ordinary day shine like a gem, even through a lens of pain and dismay.

  2. Oh Emma,
    this makes me a little teary eyed and wistful. “The days are long but the years are short.” I can so relate to just wanting adult interaction in the midst of the unending preschool minutes. To be needed all the time and to have that need grow exponentially with each additional babe, and then to be pregnant with two needy ones?
    Oh, it is a calling, for certain! (But now that mine are 5, 7, and 9, I am thankful that during that time I was not working but was present at home.)
    I actually began blogging for mere sanity when the third one arrived. I was overwhelmed with no family in town and not wanting to pack up half my weight in baby supplies just to go somewhere, managing three independent little creatures!
    🙂 What your children are displaying is a reflection of the love, care, and creativity that you model for them. Absolutely precious!
    Thank you for sharing (and for stopping by my post as well).
    Love,
    Tammy
    (#3 this week)

    1. I try to remind myself of the importance of these moments every day but yes, sometimes it just seems like too much and everything is caving in on you 🙁 So great to hear your perspective as a mum of older kids – gives me so much hope and perspective 🙂 Blogging is a pretty special way of reorienting ourselves, hey?

  3. I love how you consistently take me down my own memory lane. Yes, those years are sooo very difficult, and most days exhausting, but they are indeed precious.

    ♥ this: “What seems common now, may in fact transform over time to become inestimably precious.” I can emphatically shout out “Yes, yes, remember these moments!” Although I was a scrapbooker back then, how I wish I would’ve started blogging the common and mundane moments earlier.
    Thanks, Emma.

    P.S. Those eyes!

    1. Thank you so much for your words and insights so meaningfully gained over the years – it means so much to me! I’m very thankful to have this blog as a place for storing up the memories and moments 🙂

  4. The chaos of home is such a messy beautiful. The work you are doing is a “sacred trust.” (Kai Nilsen calls it that.) You found the gift in it, my friend. I’m glad you are sharing your mom journey with us. It helps in mine.

    1. I love that. Sacred trust – so profound! This community is so helpful to me in ensuring I find the beautiful even when I’m tempted not to.. such a privilege to be a part of it xxox

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