Enjoying my morning coffee

“It’s perfect weather to have your morning coffee outside,” my husband tells me when I come into the kitchen Sunday morning.

And he’s right. Crisp low 60s, it’s quiet and still with the birds chirping. It’s my absolute favorite weather in general, and it’s perfect for sitting in my backyard and enjoying my morning caramel-macchiato flavored coffee. And this Sunday morning I’m not rushing anywhere, so the opportunity is perfect.

I head outside for some moments of morning meditation, coffee and calmness… mommy style.

If mommy goes outside, so does everyone else. I straighten out the table and chairs that tend to wander away from their dedicated spot and settle in for feeling the still freshness and sounds of nature, mingled with the sounds of my entourage.

My one year old is happily walking around in her walking/sitting rolling seat. My two year old finds a cozy coupe that’s clean enough for his liking and takes off. Two of my boys head to the trampoline. Someone heads to climb a tree and someone else goes straight to digging.

I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. The freshness, the birds chirping, the slight breeze. I take my first sip of perfectly just-right sweetened coffee, allowing myself to taste every droplet.

“Mommy!!!!” I quickly pause my mediation.

The cozy coupe seems to be having trouble; maybe it’s the fact that my two year old has seven different toys on his lap while steering and is therefore now holding onto the steering wheel tightly while dangling in a sideways cozy coupe. We straighten him out, assess that there’s no damage and he continues on his way “to Walmart”.

Back to my seat, another sip of coffee. Another deep breath, listen to the birds.

“Mommmmmmy!!!” Someone climbed too high in his favorite tree. I put down my coffee and head over to see if it is indeed urgent or not. Thankfully he’s already worked his way down.

I head back to my coffee, and to my deep breathing. Smelling the scent of freshly mowed grass, watching two birds fly overhead.

“Waaaaa!” My baby got a wheel stuck in the grass. I’m out of my chair again, straightening her out and put her back on track on the pavement.

Back to my coffee. Another sip, I relax and enjoy the moment of sitting and not moving. Just being one with nature.

“It’s my turn!” Someone is shouting. “No it’s not!” Someone else is yelling.

I breathe deeply; this time it’s not to connect with nature, rather it’s holding my breath to see if they can work it out or if I’ll be summoned.

I gulp some coffee a little quicker and hear my name… and off I go to figure out whose turn it is for the handcuffs.

We work it out somewhat and I head back. My two year old has a big grin as he proudly sits in what he knows very well is my spot. After some attempt at negotiating, he’s back to the cozy coupe and I’m back to my chair.

And my coffee.

Breathe. Smell. Listen. Touch. Notice the breeze. 

“It’s not opening!” I hear the voice of my frantic three year old.

I look down and he’s handcuffed himself to the chair near my. I’ve long ago given up trying to figure out the “why” of such situations, and help him open the handcuff.

Relieved to be set free, he promptly goes and attaches himself again. Like I said, I’ve long ago given up trying to figure out why little boys do what they do, I have just embraced the fact that they will continue to do what they do, especially when it makes no sense to me.

Another sip of coffee. 

The ball hit someone.

Someone is jumping too hard on the trampoline.

My two year old is back from Walmart and dumps all his goods on my lap.

My baby is done with the fresh air and wants out of that walker.

Morning meditation time is officially over. I quickly pour down as much coffee as I can.

Someone needs a band aid now.

And I think of a clip one of my friends had sent me a few weeks before; of a woman living in a small RV in the wilderness, with nothing but her one room life on wheels, parked at the quiet beach with no one and nothing in sight other than birds, breeze and nature. And I remember when I saw it, I imagined for a moment how serene that must be – maybe even with a touch of envy! Although I’m wise enough to know not to believe from a few second snippet that this serenity means happiness, still I think about how peaceful it may be, and for a moment dream of being in a one room home on wheels and solitude. The luxury of a slow and quiet cup of coffee, uninterrupted. But at the same time I know that absolutely nothing replaces what it feels like to being needed and to have a purpose.

At this moment, when suddenly everyone needs me now, as I glance longingly at my coffee and wish I could have had a few more moments to actually have consecutive uninterrupted deep breaths, I know with certainty that I am blessed to have the better option.