Sometimes, it looks like this.
(Sometimes. Not today.)
It has sounded more like this, today: “Don’t put your head in the toilet.” “Why are you putting that piece of sandwich between your toes?” “Hey! Don’t eat my makeup!” “I am not a trampoline.” “Good job helping! Yay! Thank you! Wait! Was that a red dress? We’re washing whites!”
But those are just the things I’ve said.
I don’t want to drown in the sound of my own voice.
I’ve got to remember the things she’s saying, too.
I’ve got to remember the joyful shouts of “Mummy!!” whenever I reappear. The MO MOW! (more milk) and MO SEE-WOH! (more cereal) breakfast chorus. The “Oh, wow!” marvel at everything from a cookie to a piece of lint. The giggling “Ready? GO!” shrieks followed by hugs-from-a-running-start. The “Help. Stuck!” announcement that’s she has woken up from her nap. The bouts of uncontrollable laughter. Even the endlessly dramatic “Oh, no!”, which drives me crazy sometimes.
Because, even though every day doesn’t look like that photo, every day won’t always sound like this, either.
So on days like this, I ask God to let me see the miracle in the midst of the noise. And you know what? Every time I remember to stop and ask him to see with new eyes, He always, always answers.
“You have put gladness in my heart.” -Psalm 4:7a