view through the living room window
I pretended to eat about 200 elaborate play dough food constructions that delighted Ayla (who is currently napping on my lap) very much.
I rinsed, soaked, and cooked chickpeas.
I made sandwiches. Fried egg with kimchi for me, Papa, and Ayla. Peanut butter with jam for Sylvia. Peanut butter with cream cheese on gluten-free bread for Camille.
I washed (but didn't fold) a load of laundry.
I washed (some, but not all) dishes.
I doodled on my toddler with a Tattoo Marker. Camille drew on Sylvia.
I took out many stitches from Camille's cross stitch project, so that she could have it 'just so' without the added frustration of ripping out all of her hard work.
I baked potatoes and baked homemade granola bars that stuck to the pan horribly, but were still yummy.
I read a dozen or more board books aloud and helped put together the same puzzle several times with Ayla.
I made a chickpea coconut curry with potatoes, carrots, onions, and lots of garlic.
I fed and watered the chickens and collected their beautiful eggs.
I hauled in wood from the woodpile and kept a fire going all day.
I kissed little owies, and wiped a bottom, told my girls I was proud of them, sipped two cups of coffee and a jar full of herbal tea, helped mediate minor disagreements, knit a few rounds and watched Dumbo and watched my girls giggle, whoop, and tumble around the livingroom.
This is a slow day. I was tempted to feel discouraged somehow, but when I look at it all written out like that, I feel like I should be proud of myself. I sustained and nourished my family. It may be mundane, but it's not too bad for a gray day in February. It'll do :).