I’m sitting in Annabelle’s room. I should be doing dishes. I want to be doing dishes. The dishes have bred. They have become a horde taking over the kitchen. If I’m not careful they may rebel and try to take over the house using forks and knives as weapons. 

So I really want to restore order to the chaos that is my filthy kitchen. But my daughter woke up halfway through her nap and was upset her daddy had left for work. So here I sit. 

She has gone from sobbing to quietly dancing with her baby doll. At some point she spit in her hands and rubbed them together just to see what would happen. Now she is in the best of moods because her brother has snuck out of his quiet play time to make faces at her from the hallway and they are both giggling. 

I should be doing dishes. Or getting her out of bed and finding an activity for the kids to do. 

But instead I’m just going to sit here and bask in the giggles and the joy and the chaos for a few minutes. 

My life is beautiful even when my kitchen isn’t.