That's What It's All About

The days are just not long enough.  And yet they are much, much too long.  Some days, especially this week, I find myself wondering if the day will ever end.  One of the ironies of life I suppose.

Today is Thursday.  David has been in San Antonio since Monday.  Lately the girls take turns having naps when they nap at all, and I'm basically on baby duty from  7 a.m. till 9 p.m., and often through the night, though Afton is sleeping better and better these days.

At the risk of sounding very negative, I will admit that sometimes I grow weary of it all.  The endless dishes and laundry, the accidents, the whining, the shrieking, the policing.  Sometimes I want time to myself.  And when I finally get it, there are so many things I want to do - update the blog, write in my journal, update baby books, clean, draw, read, sleep - that it never seems like enough.

 But then -   

But then my two-year-old gets scared by a loud car and runs to me, grabbing hold of my hand.  She looks up at me, unsure of herself, and I squeeze her hand and smile back.  She, in all her innocence and warmth, snuggles into my leg and says, "I love you Mama."

Afton is learning to walk, and she is so so close.  I stand her up and back away, coaxing her toward me.  She is thrilled.  She's excited and unsure and so proud with each independent step she takes.  She gets within a foot of me and she falls forward into my arms, not doubting for a second that I'll catch her.  I shower her with snuggles and kisses and we all cheer and I wonder if this isn't both of our favorite part.

Paisley tears around the house, looking for whatever catches her interest.  She spots something I've just put away, gets it out, makes a little mess, and then she's on to the next thing.  Before long, she knocks something over, spills something, or breaks something.  I notice.  She watches for my reaction with large apologetic eyes.  In a split second, I need to decide how to react.  This time, I laugh. (Not always my first reaction, believe it or not).  A huge, happy smile wipes over her face and she laughs and cuddles up to me.  There's a hint of gratitude in this gesture, I know.  She knows she was clumsy, and she wants to be good.  In that moment she knows I love her more than the carpet, or the glass, or whatever it might be.  She's what matters most.

And then, my baby girl won't go to sleep, tired as she is.  I breathe in deeply and decide to hold her, just a few more minutes.  We sit in the rocking chair, and she shakes her head playfully with a big smile on her face.  She knows how adorable I think that is.  When I laugh, her tired eyes smile at me and she snuggles her face into my neck.  There's no one but me and her,the night is still and she's captured me, all of me, just for a moment.

In these moments, I realize that this is it.  There's nothing more important.  Nothing more real or sweet or joyful.  This is life at its finest and there's nowhere I'd rather be.

Afton, about to push off and walk.  Will post a video when David's home to help film!