Somehow I failed to notice that yesterday was Wednesday. I mean, I know it was but the day evaporated like an apple juice spill on the table that leaves behind a sticky reminder that it had been here but wasn't taken care of very well.
Or something like that.
The point being, another Wednesday came and went with so many repetitive household chores being done. It came and went with the same routine that all Wednesdays hold. It came and went with me cleaning up one mess just so that we were able to make another.
And today will be much the same. We will clean up breakfast and the dining room table so that we can cover the table with school books and pencil shavings. Then we'll clean that up so that we can cover the table with soup spoons and bread crumbs. Then we'll clean that up so that "art" can be made and dinner served and Egyptian Temples built.
In the meantime, I will vacuum the floor so that the clean laundry I unceremoniously dump on the carpet for sorting won't pick up every stray piece of who-knows-what. But then once I clean up all the laundry there will be new lint and dryer sheets to pick up. The re-vacuuming may wait until tomorrow.
Such is life. And I wouldn't have it any other way. There is joy to be found. It sounds simple, but it is really profound. It takes a choice.
I'm choosing joy.