Coffee on the front stoop and quiet evenings making spicy thai noodles and watching the rain. There is nothing spectacular about these days. But they are what life is about. Like when I was younger and the days were full to the brim even without leaving our yard. We would read Nancy Drew and The Babysitters Club in the hammock, in the pool, up in the tree, on the porch swing. We would eat lunch and play house and find worms in the dirt. Most nights we would take a walk or a bike ride around the neighborhood, a gaggle of two adults and three small girls, one with extremely unruly hair. We are in between the time where we are the children who get to do these fun kid things and the time where we become the ones responsible for skinned knees and trips to the library. But even in between we get to have a life where it is the two of us getting excited about a stormy sky, a favorite movie, a new library book, exploring a new place, laying in the grass. I know when these days are over I will miss them and keep the memories close to my heart, so I will make them count even if the memories are full of nothing spectacular.