Blonde strands curl around themselves, bobbing back and forth as Renea dances. She slips Daddy’s ball cap onto her head—backwards—smashing curls that soon bounce back.
She leans in to give me a kiss. All sloppy and full of the mixture of sweetness and mischievousness typical of my almost 2-year-old little girl.
The weekend was filled with the sweet ordinariness of life. Shopping for fruit for Saturday’s dinner—kids hands gripping Indonesian treats given for free by the store owner. Making pizza with the kids to the sounds of their favorite songs.
A visit to the beach, Brad and I sharing our thoughts and lessons learned and dreams and funny kid stories over the sound of surf soaking our pant legs. The kids’ excited screams rising above us as they stepped further into the splashing ocean, gripping our hands.
Special daddy times with the kids—a ride with Evan, a walk with Renea.
Nothing extraordinary. The ordinariness of it all, set in the midst of this often strange, interesting, sometimes hard life. The normal--becoming memories.
The momentary joys turning into things that last.
Life’s treasures created in kids’ imaginations and family pizza traditions and a marriage deepening in passion with the years mixed with ordinary and special. The specialness not always found in the adventure of overseas living. Sometimes it’s found in the sweet contentment of family and home.
And then the simply ordinary becomes something amazing.