Somedays you are lucky enough to have a perfect moment. Lying on the couch with my daughter nestled in next to me, the sun beaming in through the window and the clouds unfolding overhead, enveloped in the warmth of her pink, bunny rabbit blanket, I found my perfect moment.
Popularity: 1% [?]
I had a moment today. It’s one of those specks in the sea of our lives that stand out, like a tiny island. It wasn’t monumental or life-changing. It simply … was.
Rebekah and I had walked up to the bus stop and sat down in a neighbor’s driveway, back against their minivan and in what shade it afforded. She instructed me in the proper way to sit “criss-cross applesauce,” or what we old fogies learned as “Indian-style.” Then she sat in my lap and we waited for the bus to come. Simply waited.
The weather was beautiful, there was a light breeze blowing. The blades of grass danced about and a tree nearby was resplendent in a pink spring gown of flowers. People drove past or waved from bicycles and Rebekah chattered away to me about this and that, kicked back in my lap and looked up at me leisurely. And I simply sat there, and held her, and tried to soak it all in.
Popularity: 1% [?]
“The birds are telling me I’m their mommy!”
Birdsong has been described a lot of ways, but I think I like my three-year-old’s the best.
Popularity: 1% [?]
Today I was walking along the sidewalk with Rebekah when we passed an empty store. Inside was a short step ladder right next to a very tall step ladder. The rest of the store was empty, save for some trash in the corners. In a way it was very picturesque. As I admired the artistic qualities, my eyes shifted focus and I saw our reflection in the window. Her, sweet and short, holding hands with her tall daddy. We mirrored the ladders beautifully. I thought for a moment of trying to take a picture of it, but knew that a picture would never really do it justice. So I just stood there for another moment, holding her hand.
Popularity: 1% [?]
After swimming today, Reed’s in the shower next to mine, humming.
I love that.
It’s one of those things that let you know a child has a song in his heart.
It is also one of those things that makes you wonder where, as an adult, your song has gone. I think I need to start listening closer.
Popularity: 1% [?]
Up at 4am.
woe is the three-year-old who
is insomniac.
Popularity: 1% [?]