The past two days have been something out of a nightmare. Non stop crying from Mabel and alot of tears and worries from me. They were hard-talks-between-husband-and-wife [mommy&daddy] kinda days. When Mabel goes into a 'fit' that lasts that long, it is once again a wake up call to the fact that we have alot of tough days ahead. We have hard choices to make and harder realities to face. I felt sad and defeated, but mostly exhausted.
And then sunlight broke through the skies on this amazing Wednesday morning and my heart beat out a different rhythm than yesterday.
I had to leave for awhile this morning but before I did Braden told me that I make his heart very happy. Then he puckered up his luscious lips and said, "come over here beautiful woman."
And then when I returned Rache already had Braden and Mabel outside. It's like she knew that it was going to be that kind of day; the kind that needed refreshing.
We decided quickly on a McDonald's lunch picnic in the front yard so I grabbed my new favorite quilt and sprawled it out for the kids and ants to enjoy.
I then declared to myself internally that I was not going to move from that quilt for the entire day. The wind was blowing, the tree above us was lit just right by the sun's warm rays and my kids were happy. The laundry room was full and last night's dishes were still piled high in the sink but it didn't matter. There was nothing else I wanted to do today than stare into the faces of my littlest loves.
I got to enjoy most of the day alone with just Braden and Mabel because our queen Nora decided to sleep until 12:30. She's a night owl and as long as her school work gets done at some point during the day, I'm ok with it. She's growing and I really want us to all just adapt to whatever it is life has for us in this moment today. My kids do that really, really well.
So I go with it and it has made for a really happy life here.
The sun shifted several times throughout the day. The light sat against each crevice of Mabel's face periodically and I swallowed every chance to photograph her that I could.
I watched her giggle instead of cry. I watched her brother love her and make her squeal in delight. I thought about how perfectly intimate these moments are between them and how in the future he may remember rolling around on this very quilt under this very tree on this very day.
I was staying there forever.
There are days that I vow to never forget the way their voices sound at this exact age or how Mabel's laugh has a deep breath every few seconds. I promise myself to never let go of the things that they do and say because they are fleeting and so easily forgotten in a world that eats us alive.
But today, I didn't promise myself to remember.
I didn't have to make that promise. I just know that I will.
Today was basically a perfect day.
And in the several hours that we stayed on that beautiful quilt under that gigantic tree with the sun lit just right, many friends popped in and out to join us.
Big kids played. Mommies talked. Babies rolled and teethed.
All was well in the front yard of my big white house today.
In fact, all was as it should always be.
When Nora finally did decide to wake up, she ate and played and ran and was little. I saw it all over her and I loved it. She's only little right now. Just now; just today.
So I let her do school work on our quilt and we sat closely by as she learned [and so did I.]
I learned that this is exactly how it should be at this exact time in my life. This is not out of the ordinary or broken. It's flawless and redeemed.
This is perfectly in sync with the plan that God laid out for this family.
You know how I know?
Because it is spelled out all over their faces.
They are together. They feel safe. They are happy. And we are doing it.
I'm not going to miss it after all. I'm not going to be so swallowed up in the heartache that it passes me by. I am still right here with them and today I enjoyed all of them.
There is a fullness that unfolds as an old quilt does. Just like wrinkled noses and curled toes, this quilt expanded here today and it expanded something in me. This kind of day should last forever.
I'm washing that same quilt right now in preparation for it to meet the ground again soon. We will sit for hours and laugh and talk and play and school. Babies will drool and roll. Mommies may cry or sleep. But here in the comfort of this place there is something that goes on that is unspoken. It's a love between us; rather mother and child, friend and neighbor, sister to sister.
Nothing else matters here but being here.
I can say today that I was truly here. In every single way, I felt like I was fully here.
And I wanted to stay here forever.
Lucky for me, it's just a few steps away.
Maybe you'll join me tomorrow?