The most ordinary mornings often become the ones we remember most.

Some mornings in our house just get off to a rough start.

This morning certainly wasn’t picture-perfect. My oldest was up at 5:30 a.m.—far too early, and certainly not to get ahead on homework, but to turn on the TV. The assignments that should have been finished the night before were still waiting on the table. And then there is the bathroom, which looks like a hurricane passed through.

And then there are the mornings when my boys are happily playing together and lose track of time. They are either trading cards or working on a new Minecraft LEGO creation—and somehow the entire morning slips away. Suddenly we are in the last five minutes before it’s time to leave, and everyone is rushing around the house looking for socks, brushing teeth, grabbing snacks and lunch boxes, and still somehow arguing about which stuffed animal is allowed to go to which classroom. And of course there are the library books, the ones they still want to read at night before bed, promising faithfully that they will put them back in their backpacks afterward.

And yet, somewhere in the midst of our morning chaos and lectures, something shifts when we all get in the car to go to school.

Somewhere between the driveway and the school doors, the frustration softens. My oldest, now tall enough to sit up front, reaches for my hand—with that sweet, still-boyish kind of love—and I’m reminded that this season is fleeting. In the back seat, my younger ones usually start singing something—sometimes a song they learned at school or a song playing on the radio—and the car fills with their little voices.

Their sweetness and unaffected love reminds me to appreciate where we are right now. It reminds me not to get so caught up in what I want them to become that I forget to appreciate who they already are.

Because one day, when we all look back on these ordinary, imperfect drives to school, I want them to be remembered with warmth. I want my sons—and myself—to remember them as small moments of family life that were full of love.

These messy mornings that end up with hugs and kisses – perhaps the most ordinary mornings are the ones that root themselves deepest in our memories.