I still believe in magic. It's true. I will turn thirty this summer, which sounds to me very much like turning into a grown up for real, but I still believe in magic just like my small daughters. Not the kind of magic that transforms Prince Charming into a Beast, nor the kind that turns a pumpkin into a carriage. That kind of magic is reserved for fairy tales and story books (though I will forever be a sucker for a happy ending). But I believe in magic of a different kind.
I believe in the magic of the everyday.
I have never wanted to be anything other than a wife and a mother. I had other interests that I thought about pursuing at one time or another in my growing up years, but nothing ever captivated my soul quite like the thought of getting married and having children with my love. Sometimes it was all I could think about, talk about, dream about. I dreamed about being poor and in love, together in our early years, just beginning our new life. I dreamed about having babies right away, and lots of them! I dreamed about happy colors, comforting blankets, aprons, home cooked meals, chocolate chip cookies, gardens, and a white picket fence. It was all very magical, this life I had created for my little (or big) family in my dreams. I could not wait for my dreams to come true. I could not wait for the magic to begin.
And then he came along, that February of 2002. Dark hair, kind eyes, easy smile. And I knew, I just knew that someday he would be mine. A little spark of magic burst forth. It was September of that same year when I knew that I loved him, and November when I said yes. The love, that magical feeling, was overflowing by this point. My magical moment had finally come! I couldn't wait to be his Mrs. His helper. His forever love. In May of 2003, my dream came true. We had a beautiful wedding, an amazing honeymoon. Everywhere I looked there was magic.
That same summer we decided to start our family, and by October there were two pink lines on the stick. We were going to have a baby! The magic had overflowed and a new life was beginning. She joined us the following July of 2004. Perfect, and beautiful, and pink. And even amidst tired eyes, and crazy hormones, I could not wipe the smile from my face. I was living my dreams.
After that there were moves, adventures as I like to call them, and new houses, new friends. Every new place and every new face adding to the magic of the life we were carving out for ourselves. In 2006 a new sister joined our family, and in 2010 a tiny brother. My cup overflowed, so many magical moments it would be impossible to name them all. Life certainly wasn't perfect, but it was our life, and it was what we wanted. It was enough. I couldn't imagine not always feeling that full. Not always seeing the magic in the everyday. At times it would drift in and out as it does in any life, but it always came back. The magic always came back. I just assumed that it would always be there.
So no one was more surprised than me when I lost the magic. I couldn't find it anywhere. I suppose it was still there, but I quit seeing. Somewhere along the way I stopped dreaming. I stopped seeing the magic. Or really, I stopped looking for it. I felt a bit lost, not really knowing my purpose. Where once being a wife and mother seemed like enough, suddenly the magic was gone. Boss and the children were still magical, they always will be to me, but my perspective was off. I kept crying out to God, wanting him to hit me over the head with his plans for my life. I wanted grand plans and grand purpose! I wanted magic, but not the everyday kind. I wanted big magic!
And then I got pregnant with number four. And I thought maybe that was my answer. Maybe mothering four children would be more magical than mothering three! I began to get excited. Surely big things would be happening soon! And they did, just not in the way that I planned. As you know, we lost that baby. And I thought the magic was really gone then. Lost forever. I knew I would feel happiness again. Boss and my children most always make me happy. But for me, happiness was different than magic. That feeling that everything is right with the world. That you are right where you should be. I wasn't sure when, or if, I would find that feeling again. Maybe life wasn't as magical as I had once thought.
Last week our family spent the week at Disney World. And as cliche as it sounds, I can honestly say that is where I found my magic once again. And it wasn't in the enchanting music, the beautiful costumes, or in the princesses. It was Emma racing to hold my hand as we walked from one attraction to another. Choosing me to be her partner over anyone else. It was seeing Kate's eyes light up, believing that some of the fairy tales were true. It was in allowing her to keep on believing. It was in Jack's kisses. And in his laughter. There was magic in holding Boss' hand. It was in stripping away everything else, all that I thought I wanted or deserved, and really seeing what I already had. A beautiful life. I looked at the family we had created, together, and it all came back to me. What we have is enough. This life? It can be magic. If we search for it in the everyday. If we strive to see beauty in the simple. If we can do those things, then the magic is all around us. I don't just have to dream of being a wife and mother, or of aprons or home cooked meals, or traditions. I can make it happen. I can do that! I can take my regular life moments and make them magical.
I can choose to believe in the magic of the everyday.
