Normal...

I woke up to the sound of my son demanding to be let out of his room. I gave him his cup and his toys and let him play for a while. A little later I fixed him breakfast- a waffle with butter and syrup. Once he was done I changed his stinky diaper, apple juice goes right through him, and put him in clothes. We watched a movie for a little while. He played with his toys some more while I cleaned. Laundry and dishes and sweeping.
We checked in on the puppies. Still squirming around. A few were starting to open their eyes. He got into things he wasn't supposed to. He climbed onto the rolling computer chair and stood on the edge. I made him sit since he's already fallen off a couple times. He yelled at me and got over it. I put music on and he did his silly dancing.
I fed him lunch. Peanut butter and jelly. He ate most of it and smeared the rest of it. On his tray, on his belly, on the floor. I cleaned him up so we could go outside. He led the way. To the riding lawnmower he loves to sit on and play with. Down the hill to the lake. Being careful to sidestep the momma bird because she's guarding her eggs and gets generally pissy if you get anywhere near her.
I laid him down for his nap, which he fought. I made him dinner. Gave him a bath. Got him out and enjoyed the smell of freshly washed baby. Put him in his jammies.
Went to sleep and woke up the next morning to find out that my perfectly normal day was anything but normal for someone else. That a great daddy wouldn't be able to do those things again with his beautiful twin girls. His heart and head were in pain and he felt this world would be better off without him. Those girls are only a year older than Preston.
And I realized just how precious the previous day had been. How everytihng, from his stinky diapers to his little hugs and sloppy kisses, was such a privilege. Because he needs me and I'm his only mommy and if anything happened to me or his daddy he would be so so sad