Like today. Three different topics come to mind. I've been itching to write about Ella's 3rd Birthday for more than a month. And about this little personality Kate is developing. And how much I'm loving planning Kate's 2nd birthday party. And about how I'm feeling horribly guilty about my upcoming anniversary vacation with Chris.
But the other day, as I was reading Kelle Hampton's blog; watching Ella reenact the 'wishing well' scene with Snow White and her Prince; and trying to accept the fact that my beloved 'boss' (and dear friend) recently told me that he's moving on to greener pastures.....I felt the definite urge to blog about how this 'sliver' of life I'm living right now....is pretty damn good, all things considered.
So, here goes.
I love Kelle Hampton's blog. I love it because she speaks my heart with every post. As a mom, I have 100 thoughts a day, in response to which my mind wonders... "Am I the only one to think these thoughts? Am I the only one to feel these intense emotions?" Without ever conversating with this kindred spirit Kelle Hampton, she has given voice to every one of those emotions.
Like when I look at my girls and actually feel my heart physically ache with love.
Or when, several times a day, I have conversations in my head .... "is it better to ignore the yogurt smeared on the floor; the 8 loads of laundry sprawled in my bathroom and the smelly garbage that's overflowing with diapers? Or should I instead 'ignore' Ella for just 15 minutes, by taking a break from playing my bit roles in her Snow White play, which she requires me to rehearse with her 20 times a day?"
Like the way, whenever I hear of a tragic situation involving a child, my heart constricts in a way it never did, before I had babies of my own. Because I imagine my babies experiencing the pain or hardship I just heard on the news. And I want to do something immediately to comfort that parent on TV, hold the child, or punish the culprit who's responsible for causing the pain.
Or when I spend untold hours worrying. Worrying if the girls' slightest cold will turn into a more serious one. If they're well, I worry about good fortune....ponder why in the world I have been so blessed with such healthy, happy, safe children...when so many other children in the world are sick, or unsafe or unhappy. I worry sometimes at crazy times. Like when I drive across a bridge and imagine what I'd do if it snapped and we plunged into the water. How would I be able to get both of my girls out safely before our car was submerged by water?
Kelle has captured each of these thoughts and emotions in her blog. And so many more. And that's why I adore her.
A few posts ago, she wrote about what she describes as this current 'sliver in time' when life has been pretty close to perfect. And even though her youngest daughter has some very serious health issues, she's choosing not to question this current, beautifully perfect 'sliver in time,' when her glass is more than 'half full.'
It's just plain full. To the brim. Maybe even overflowing. And she's going with it.
I felt her every word. Right now...the parenthood/family part of my life is pretty fantastic. And when it comes down to it, the 'parenthood' and 'family' parts of my life are my life. They are my heart. My priority. They're what make me get up in the morning. My source of joy. They're my everything.
Even when Ella has an emotional, crabby-faced, foot-stomping breakdown because she can't stay up til 11 p.m., I can laugh. Because I'm so friggin grateful that I have such an articulate, confident 3-year-old little girl. A little girl who feels so very sure of herself in expressing her every emotion.
Or take Kate's cockeyed middle-of-the-night routine. Where she demands a visit from me, followed by an arms-around-the-neck squeeze, a trip to the kitchen for a new bottle, and a return to her crib, with bottle, binky, mousy, puppy and both blankies. Although sometimes I really just want a full night's sleep, more often than not, I welcome her wake up calls as a beautiful opportunity to be needed in the middle of night.
The reality is that Kate's middle-of -the-night cries remind me that it's fleeting-- this little window that presents me with the precious gift of comforting her at all hours of the day. Before long, I know I'll miss it. I'll miss being greeted by a relieved "Hi Mommy," and a cheek-to-cheek hug, followed by a "dank you Mommy" when I give her her bottle (that I was supposed to stop giving her 6 months ago) and laying her back down to sleep.
The reality is that almost every time I lay myself back to sleep, I think about what I'd do if I were one of the thousands of moms in Haiti who still don't have a warm, safe place for their babies to sleep.
I think about how fortunate I am to even be able to place my precious baby girl in the sanctity of her comfy, cozy crib. I think about how fortunate I am to return to a cozy bed of my own. How lucky I am to have a husband who can also get up to soothe her if, after the second or third middle-of-night wake up, I just don't feel like getting out of bed.
And how fortunate I am to have the blessing of soothing this sweet, precious soul. When there are so many equally precious babies around the world who have no one to comfort them in the middle of the night. I guess the point is that even when other pockets of life are imperfect or uncertain, my current slice of 'mom/family' life is simply divine.
This part of my life...it's better and more fulfilling than anything I'd ever imagine as a teenager or even as a 'younger' woman. Chris and I will soon be celebrating our 5th year anniversary. On our wedding day, we wrote on the back of our wedding program that our cups runneth over; and we couldn't imagine being happier or more blessed than we were on that day.
Here I am, 5 years later, humbled by the reality that our lives are, fact, even more blessed, and more full today than they were 5 years ago. I know that all things, including even these glorious slices of perfection, do pass. I remind myself too frequently that hard times can always be just around the corner. But, I'm grateful to realize, in the here and now, that my cup truly does over.
And I really could not ask for more.
