Led by the Littles

The day started at five bells. I wandered around wondering the same sentiments my oldest daughter generally utters, "why are we up? It's still dark outside. "

Routine began and we stepped in time with the rhythm of the clock.

Breakfast.

Nine hundred layers for outside chores.

Wind whips the face and it's time for a 9AM coffee break. 

Somewhere after this, chaos ensued and our tempo changed. I was again reminded that in this motherhood gig, you need to be wildly flexible. I've got the wild part down pat. 

White flakes sprinkle down over the brown earth, like icing sugar being shaken down from the heavens. I have the wisest of wise ideas that doughnuts for supper sounds like a grand plan. Jody does a supper like this during calving, and she has five healthy kids! 

I've mentioned that the Biggest and I like to bake together. Somehow, today, she found the Littlest climbing up on her step stool just to be the tip of the iceberg. My hand slipped while trying to adjust a beater in my little mixer, the whole thing got away on me and hit her in the head. 

I. felt. horrible. 

Somehow this fun doughnut supper was turning into tears, burnt hands, and mess. Everywhere. 

When her daddy arrived home, and we were all sitting around the table eating golden puffs ladled with cinnamon and sugar, harmony reigned. All was right in the world. 

"Oh, thank you Momma, thank you soooo much for making these yummy doughnuts! Daddy! We get DOUGHNUTS FOR SUPPER! Momma, you're the best!"

Oh, praise from the mouth of a three year old. She didn't notice the flour on the floor, oil splattered on the counter top, one thousand Duplo blocks spread across the carpet. 

Really, neither should I. 

All the silly painting, sewing, scrubbing in this home just doesn't matter. We are warm, we are comfortable, and there is food in our bellies. It's the stories swapped over coffee, it's the thump of little feet, and the relationships being built that matter. 

Sometimes we need to just let a three year old lead us.