Thursday, November 18, 2010
When all I've done is change diarrhea diapers, taken beatings from thrown across the room etch a sketches, and burnt my hand on hot food that my children decided not to even eat- I pray for these moments.
And when it feels like I just can't take anymore. Not even one more second of stepping on toy cars while holding the baby, and nearly breaking my back from trying to stabilize my balance before we both hit the floor-
Daddy comes home, and I see the love that my kids have been hiding all day.
They were saving it for him.
He parks the bike, puts up the kickstand, the back wheel comes off the ground.
While they run to him, hopefully wearing shoes, or at least socks, because the concrete is cold today, I stand behind them, still trying to wrap the baby in a blanket, ignoring that my shirt is still up above my bra from breastfeeding half an hour ago.
While part of me wants to be mad, that nobody gave me that kind of admiration today, even though I slaved away in a kitchen and cleaned up messes that I didn't make, the up-beat in my heart is too loud to compete with the self pitty.
I watch my family, and I fall in love.
Christopher's just come home from Physical Training- what I wouldn't give to do some yoga right now.
Charlie is smiling and care free- God how I could use a bubble bath.
Eleanore is singing and dancing and twirling- my arms are heavy with a bundle of fussing 3 month old, who somehow always knows the difference between the sway of my arms and the sway of the swing.
But as I watch them all talk, and laugh, and play... I realize the only person I'm cheating is myself. My moment of bitterness soon passes, and I'm reminded why its all worth it.
I'll do my yoga after the babies go to bed. I'll be carefree after dinner is cooked and everyones tummy is full. I'll spin and dance and twirl after the baby feels better and lets me put her down.
Look at how happy they are.
Happiness doesn't get anymore pure than that.
I run into the house, Evelyn in arms, grab my camera with my free arm, which isn't really free at all due to the weight of the fleece blankets, rip my lens cap off with my teeth (really), flip the switch to auto, and run my frozen toes out of the shadows and into the sunlight, where I snap picture after picture after picture, before its too late.
I love that my babies are happy.
I love that they're smiling.
They'll want to remember this when they're older.
I want them to remember this when they're older.
The joy of "Daddy's home! Daddy's home!".
Not the bitterness that Mommy felt when they weren't cheering for her.
How selfish I can be, sometimes.
So I let the moment knock the wind out of me.