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Today was a special day. I could feel it as soon as my feet hit the floor this morning. The alarm went off and I didn’t feel a sense of dread. That’s a new one for me. I tiptoed down the hall, so as not to wake my husband or little boy, and found that the light in the kitchen had gone out. Considering the hour and lack of sunshine that comes with it, I really needed that light. I made a mental note never to buy that brand of bulb again. If only I could remember what that brand was… But that’s neither here nor there.

While I sipped my coffee and packed my lunch, I contemplated what adventures the day would bring. Alas, the first adventure came much earlier than expected, and what a disappointment: oatmeal. I had it planned for days that I would eat this oatmeal in an attempt to overhaul my diet, due to the alarming amount of belly pudge I retained after sacrificing my body for pregnancy. There is nothing like trying to choke down a bowl of not-supposed-to-be-this-salty-thank-God-for-the-blueberries-on-top boiled oats.

At breakfast’s end, I began a rather toasty walk to my workplace just a few blocks from home. I work for a semi company. I get the privilege of billing all the loads that our trucks haul and, on occasion, am given the self-esteem boost of being hit on by lonely truck drivers. Anyway, today we had a mystery load. There’s nothing like having to track down paperwork in a busy shop full of loud noises and busy bodies. I was looking all through the driver’s break area, which is directly attached to the shop where the mechanics work on the trucks. In a more distracted fashion than usual, I was looking at the ceiling rather than paying attention to my surroundings.

There’s always a plethora of chirping birds jumping around in the rafters. Anyway, when I turned back around to return to the office, I was staring straight into the grill of big ‘ole 18-wheeler. I’ll never understand how I completely missed that sucker pulling into the garage in the first place.
After cheating death, and hoping that nobody noticed my idiocy, I finished billing to perfection, learned a new word called “pecksniffian” from our “Word of the Day” website, used it incorrectly in a sentence, and walked myself back home.

The fun had only just begun. I single-handedly taught my son to play drums on a metal pot with a wooden spoon, prepared a delectable dish of chili…on an extremely warm Summer day, and did one plank for at least 15 seconds. Onward we marched to our volleyball game accompanied by our small group from church. Considering the fact that we played in a mixed-gender league of common church folk, we did not anticipate the all male giants we met on the court. We held our own. Well, we lost horribly, but no one was injured, or at least, no one admitted to it. So we came home and assured ourselves that next time, we’d dominate.

Due to extreme fatigue, I was unable to unload the dishwasher. This was disheartening, as I so enjoy doing that. However, I found myself fondly remembering my morning oatmeal, as my handsome 9-month-old son helped me feed the cats, and somehow felt it necessary to do a taste testing. Brown, fish-scented slobber is rather disgusting to clean up.

Finally, my day of enchanting excursions has come to a close. While adorned in my Mickey Mouse pajamas and with my heating pad in tow, I collapsed into my bed. It was just another day of being an average mother, working hard as usual to make sure that the world runs smoothly and efficiently, know that any day can be special if you choose to look at it as such.

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