The minutiae of life can be a trial. I think there is a degree of this in every life, thought I can't help feel like it multiplies exponentially as you add more children--more food to buy, cook and clean up. More laundry to do and fold. More places to run people. Budget to stretch further and further each month. More schedules to coordinate. More homework assignments to help with. It is a lot of work to keep everybody running, and it isn't unusual to spend all day just being "busy" for other people. I don't mean in the good way--you know, taking a meal to a family in need or feeling impressed to drop by and see a visiting teacher sister or some meaningful gesture--I just mean in the keeping everybody fed and nurtured way.
Yet, when I have some days in row filled with what can be minutiae, I am grateful. It means that we aren't in the middle of a major or traumatic event. It means that we are establishing patterns and habits as a family. It means the kids are eking out an education. So much of life is just daily putting one foot in front of another, even when you want to just sit in the path and sulk for a little while. It seems to me that gratitude for little things is what makes minutiae, if not necessarily important, at least purposeful. I'm glad to be the one who generally feeds and reads and helps. I'm not sure how big of a hole I would leave in other places, but at least here in my home I see that each of us fills a place that is vital and essential.
As I've thought about working full-time, I can't help but wonder, "But who is going to take care of all this other stuff??" The minutiae that is not necessarily fun and not always fulfilling, but it does hold us all together. I'm grateful for the capacity to do all this boring stuff, and the non-drama that lets me do it.