Baristas and Cowboys

I'm Mommy, but I'm a barista, too. As I crawl out of bed each day, the hammering question is invariably whether priority #1 is as it should be: the preparation of the morning mugs. Never mind the wet diapers, soiled sheets, starving baby, dogs awaiting their outdoor routine, teeth brushing, contacts in eyeballs... morning mugs claim the foremost spot in our itinerary (my hot tea is right at the top of the barista list, so consider this a confession). Our list of options is nearly as extensive as that of our favorite coffee shop.

• Steamed (cow) milk with honey
• Steamed (cow) milk with maple syrup
• Hot tea with a little sugar and (cow) milk
• Hot tea with honey and (cow) milk
• Cappuccino mix with hot water and steamed (cow) milk
• Cappuccino mix with hot water and steamed (cow) cream
• Steamed (goat) milk with honey
• Steamed (goat) milk with unsweetened coconut milk and honey
• Steamed (goat) milk with flavored coconut milk 
• Coffee with cappuccino mix and steamed (cow) milk
• Coffee with Steamed (cow) milk
• Coffee with whipping cream (for the totally decadent)

This is not an exhaustive list, but it gives you an idea of your options, if you are considering a visit.

Some of the better parts of my (every) day: 
"Mommy, I need a morning mug."
"Mommy, Mommy!!! You've got to hurry! Shmelty Caleb just smiled at me. Oh, Mommy, our baby is soooooo cute."
"Paugie, where are your pants? Please put your pants on." (We have this on auto-repeat, so it accounts for the majority of the words I speak in each day).
"I wuf you."
Uncontrollable giggling as dinner is tossed overboard to the delighted canines who keep our house so immensely spotless - something about their lively motion puts the third born into fits of delight.
"Come, Mommy! The train is leaving. Let's sit on this bench [the couch] and watch the beautiful countryside whoosh by." The world of make-believe is such a bountiful one; we should live there.
The happy sigh and smile of the baby who has so valiantly sought out (and successfully procured) the presence of his mommy, amidst a vast, unexplored world we call the "whole house".
The pile of boys I find myself lost in when I lie on the floor to stretch out my weary legs. They're magnets for a good snuggle-fest.
"Mommy, Daddy's home!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Can't get enough of that. All our hearts skip a beat when we discover he is finally home with us.
The enthusiastic kitchen assistant, attired in nothing (and I do mean nothing) but an apron.
"Mommy, can I have a taste of your tea? Mmmm, that's DEWICIOUS!"
The 47 "Mommy, Guess how much I love you?"s each day.

The loneliness of this season has no freedom to leave voids within my heart - the wealth of my life gives it no room to do so.

Barista-ville.

Tools of enchantment (each morning). 

I mean, how can you not love that? That tiny person is Incredible.

Say, "Ankie Tae!" The cowboy in our midst.