Seeing: Brightness as my eyes adjust to the lights; gluten-free frozen bagels in the glow of the toaster oven; clean Fiestaware and IKEA plastic dishes to put away bright and colorful in the dishwasher and cabinets; the blue glow of the computer screen and the blue glow of the "f" logo of my favorite social media site, my morning wake-up ritual (for better or for worse); my own hugely round profile in the mirror.
Smelling: Last night's Mango Chow bowl; sweetness of honey spread on L's bagel; the clean smell of other people's detergent on my haul of new clothes from a clothing swap last night (best idea ever, by the way--even when I was the only preggo there); diapers (always diapers, and recently it's the baby-powdery smell of Pampers, because I've fallen off the cloth wagon in the past months); the fresh rain-washed air on my walk to "work."
Tasting: A flat sesame bagel with cream cheese; a butter croissant with many-berry jam; the smoothest decaf coffee light and sweet.
Feeling: Smooth dishes, sticky honey, the heaviness, pressing and rolling of an eight-months baby inside, the tired, sticky, puffy feeling below my eyes, and the gratefulness for quotes like this that give all of this slow daily work meaning:
For example, the mother who stays home with small children experiences a very real withdrawal from the world. Her existence is definitely monastic. Her tasks and preoccupations remove her from the centres of power and social importance. And she feels it. Moreover her sustained contact with young children (the mildest of the mild) gives her a privileged opportunity to be in harmony with the mild, that is, to attune herself to the powerlessness rather than to the powerful.” – Ronald Rolheiser, quoted by Beth at Red and Honey (also here)