today

this morning she woke at 6:30 and wasn't quick to fall back asleep once I went in and snuggled up with her, something I was less than patient about, considering my way-too-late bedtime last night.  I was reading.  papa heard me (loudly and, again, rather impatiently) pleading with her to please let me sleep, to please go back to sleep.  it's much too early, et cetera.  he came in and took her in bed with him and left me there in the snuggly warm bed bliss all by myself.  in that soothing early morning light.  two and a half hours later I woke and smelled coffee and breakfast.  she padded into the room, peeked at me and said "good, you're still in bed.  stay in bed..... we're surprising you!"  I left briefly to pee and grab my book and then returned, as instructed.  moments later in she came with flowers.  flowers picked from our yard this morning.   following her was papa with a breakfast tray.  after she put in her order for yogurt with berries and nuts, she climbed into bed with me and we snuggled a bit.  then she settled next to me, seated at her little table, to eat.  papa made his own breakfast and then also came in to eat, seated at the foot of the bed.  what a lovely way to wake up.  (that second waking, anyway- although I have to admit as much as I begrudge the neediness of her early wakings at the time, I know I'll miss them one day.  the closeness, the snuggles, the magic she seems to believe I hold.)

these two make my world go round.  there's a tender vulnerability in that, in loving someone (or two someones) so much, isn't there?  it's not always easy and it's not always mindful and blissful and all of that, but my gosh I am exploding with love for these two people.  these two who have made me into a mother.  and I'm also coming to terms with the fact that life isn't always easy and mindful and blissful and whatnot for anyone, anywhere.  but being aware of what is important to me, and feeling deep gratitude for them, that's something.  we try.  we aim.  we love.  get angry or hurt.  forgive.  laugh.  we then repeat all of those things in various order at various times.  and sometimes we are even served breakfast in bed with fresh picked flowers.

and are then left to read in bed with coffee for a while.  watching the sunlight stream in through the curtains, listening to the chickens clucking and birds singing, and just sitting in awe realizing how fortunate and very lucky we are.

the sun has been hanging around a good bit again and this afternoon there was a lot of outside work.  he tilled two small areas outside of the garden (the one below was snuck in between the new pear and plum trees) so I could have a place to plant our tomatoes.  he mowed the grass and worked on the stone wall.  she built a cabin out of garden fencing and invited us in for lunch.  she painted rocks.  I did very little.  I sat in the sunshine and read, did a little gardening and chick chasing, and visited a bit with my dear neighbor.  thank you, by the way, Grace, for cautioning me against planting the tomatoes today.  wouldn't have known about the frost warning otherwise.  they can wait another day or two.

and then, dinner.  he cooked.  she turned to me as we ate and said "mama, we celebrate you."  good grief.  I indeed felt celebrated.  it took a long time to get her settled down to sleep tonight.  three chapters, two songs, a story, and quite a bit of reminding her that really, now it's really time to go to sleep.  each time I got close to feeling the impatience creep in (okay, maybe it was more than just 'close' to creeping in), I reminded myself that there are worse things in life than a three year old who can't get enough of her mama at bedtime.  we make choices.  we made choices.  this is where we are.  I am her mama.  I am her home.  there's nothing I'd rather be, really, so there's no point in wishing that away.  it will go on it's own, in due time.  and then how I'll miss it so.


*weekending with amanda