it wasn't until my third cup that it was actually warm, and that was right and fitting. this is my favorite part: the wide stretch between festivities when nothing is planned and minutes turn to hours and into days of slowness. there will never be another one. not a day or moment or season quite exactly like this. there's that saying that a person can't step into the same river twice, and I'm sure we can't step in it even once. that which some explorer hundreds of years ago called a river is a wholly new thing for my toes to discover, and just like my coffee cups - similar, but each their own thing - being present with the experience is paramount to the perfection of its reality. this life, this motherhood, this existence is magical, but not magic. I guess I'm wanting to tell you to breathe into the uncertain, unplanned living of it all and find the grace there. you so deserve it. explore this river of being. sip every drink as if it's the first. see every glittering, sparkling eye with clarity. meet each soul with kindness, especially your own.