One Day, This Will Be the Good Old Days

Some days feel ordinary.

Wake up.
Work.
School runs.
Dinner.
Repeat.

Nothing dramatic happens.

No big wins.
No big changes.

Just routine.

But sometimes, in the middle of the noise, I pause.

I look at my kids arguing over something small.
I hear the sound of homework pages flipping.
I notice how small their hands still are.

And a thought comes quietly.

One day, this will be the good old days.

The dining table.
The rushed mornings.
The tired evenings.
The small arguments.
The messy rooms.

One day, the house will be quieter.

The kids will grow up.
They’ll have their own schedules.
Their own lives.

There will be no more school runs.
No enrichment classes.
No voices calling, “Papa” or “Mama” for every little thing.
No or lesser daily morning hugs.
No fighting over who gets to sleep next to us.

And I might miss this noise.

So even when I’m tired,
even when routine feels heavy —

I remind myself.

This season will pass.

And one day,
I’ll wish I could come back to it.

Okaypapa