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Writer's pictureKaty Mosiman

Rainy January Morning

Today I was inspired to write by Erin Napier, the creative lady who fixes up houses on HGTV. Erin started documenting the average every-days for herself and her 1-3 other readers (likely her mom) in 2010. I was enjoying the soothing quality of her writing this morning, so I’ll do the same.


I woke up to Mosi thrashing upright in bed and telling off Sam. Our son thought it was perfectly fine to wake his dad by ramming into his shoulder. I guess three-year-old boys look for any opportunity to tackle their parents. Sam got upset and, instead of following Mosi downstairs, he climbed into bed and let me cover us with the duvet. It was rainy and dark still at 7 am, our new normal since moving to Portland, Oregon.


Sam lay with my arm over his belly for a solid five minutes before asking if it was time to go downstairs. While he vigorously stomped down the stairs, I swung around to the nursery to check on Bronte, who startled as soon as I cracked the door open. I picked her up, wiggled her out of her sleep sack, and held her tight as she nestled into my neck. At 14 months, she is just as snuggly as she was as a newborn.


Mosi had turned the heat up and it was invitingly warm in our small kitchen and living room. Sam was already eating his usual Cheerios, quietly this time.


I immediately found my spot on the couch whereupon Bronte grabbed my shirt to ask for milk. Her little body found a comfortable position across my chest and belly, her chunky legs dangling towards my knees. I had the thought that this might be the most content she ever is, or at least until she nurses later tonight. It is a deeply satisfying thought.



The rest of the morning passed with Sam singing a made-up song (just four lyrics repeatedly) at the top of his voice, Bronte bouncing and climbing on the furniture, and Mosi and me drinking hot coffee. No spills, no tantrums, no bonked heads/arms/knees this time.


A usual weekday morning, it was simple and good. It ended with a few angry cries trying to get Sam out the door to preschool. Then the door shut, and I was alone. All was quiet.

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