Day 9: My Own Brand of Magic
There is Magic in being a mother. A special subtle way of miracle weaving that warms your home and family.
With care and detail I cast a spell of Hygge on my home.
( Hygge: the Danish word for a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being.)
Blankets, warm colors, and sunlit windows grace my living room. There are snacks and mugs for warm drinks in my open kitchen. Shoes are optional and socks are welcomed. Sweaters and late night pancakes make the dark evenings safe.
I work a charm into my child care by knowing what pajamas will feel best after a warm bath. I can find anything my child has lost and nightmares fear my doorway. My couch is best for napping and for healing. My cats have a way knowing who needs a cuddle. They ward the boarders of my home from bad feelings and rodents alike.
The baking and cooking I learned from my mother bring the peace of full bellies and a meal to gather around. Fresh bread and warm soup with a side of kindness are the potions I use to make tragedy flee. These meals are made stronger with the herbs and vegetables from my garden.
Tended and cared for by my four sturdy hens, my garden brings forth produce with the flavor of care. They churn the dirt and bring life to the soil. Pests are no match for their quick appetites'. They bless each morning with their coos and clucks keeping laziness from settling in.
Shelves and shelves of books line my walls, each one a friend or an escape. Fairytales and children's books lull my little ones to sleep in the safety of familiar stories. Night lights escort them to and from their nightly journeys.
Upset tummies, scrapes, and fevers are cured by compassion as often as medicine in my home. A bubble bath, a warm towel, and a teddy bear comfort a cold much quicker than Tylenol. Popcorn and a movie can cure a bad day at school.
I try to weave kindness and confidence into my daughter's braids. I clothe my son in gentleness and strength. I whisper protection over my babies when they sleep and sing joy into their eyes when they wake.
This is the Magic of motherhood.
With care and detail I cast a spell of Hygge on my home.
( Hygge: the Danish word for a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being.)
Blankets, warm colors, and sunlit windows grace my living room. There are snacks and mugs for warm drinks in my open kitchen. Shoes are optional and socks are welcomed. Sweaters and late night pancakes make the dark evenings safe.
I work a charm into my child care by knowing what pajamas will feel best after a warm bath. I can find anything my child has lost and nightmares fear my doorway. My couch is best for napping and for healing. My cats have a way knowing who needs a cuddle. They ward the boarders of my home from bad feelings and rodents alike.
The baking and cooking I learned from my mother bring the peace of full bellies and a meal to gather around. Fresh bread and warm soup with a side of kindness are the potions I use to make tragedy flee. These meals are made stronger with the herbs and vegetables from my garden.
Tended and cared for by my four sturdy hens, my garden brings forth produce with the flavor of care. They churn the dirt and bring life to the soil. Pests are no match for their quick appetites'. They bless each morning with their coos and clucks keeping laziness from settling in.
Shelves and shelves of books line my walls, each one a friend or an escape. Fairytales and children's books lull my little ones to sleep in the safety of familiar stories. Night lights escort them to and from their nightly journeys.
Upset tummies, scrapes, and fevers are cured by compassion as often as medicine in my home. A bubble bath, a warm towel, and a teddy bear comfort a cold much quicker than Tylenol. Popcorn and a movie can cure a bad day at school.
I try to weave kindness and confidence into my daughter's braids. I clothe my son in gentleness and strength. I whisper protection over my babies when they sleep and sing joy into their eyes when they wake.
This is the Magic of motherhood.
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