I still remember the morning my youngest, now nine, raced down the stairs in pajamas because our neighbor’s dog had stolen a plastic egg from the front yard hunt. Mornings like that—loud, a little chaotic, and full of small surprises—are my favorite kind of ordinary. With two kids between eight and twelve, our house is a living scrapbook of school papers, snack crumbs, and the kind of laughter that makes the walls feel alive. I like little seasonal touches that welcome neighbors dropping by and make homework time feel cozier. Over the years I’ve learned that a few thoughtful swaps…