Joy

Tis the season!

“Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.”

— Robert Browning

7:46 pm.

I listen to the trickling sound of the final drops of espresso as they splatter into my mug. After topping the perfectly frothed milk with some sprinkles of cinnamon, I rush to the back of the house and pull up a chair… well really his step stool, but you get the point. It’s the best seat in the house. With each sip that smoothly slides down my throat, I cannot help but to sigh a deep sigh and a smirk emerges which progresses to a full blown smile. While I look forward to the close of my second shift, as he sings and splashes about the tub, I cannot help but to steal moments to remain present. This is joy; the ability to observe my four year old just be. He dissolves the bubbles and pretends that each bath toy has taken on a persona of its one: one is a friend; the other a foe and the remaining floaters are just spectators.

“Mommy! Look at what he’s doing!” He consistently petitions me to pay attention to him as if my gaze has ever shifted. I take such pride in the simplicity of the moment. . . being able to allow my baby boy to spend what feels like an infinite amount of time in the bathtub, getting cleaned up. So often, I choose to spend this time rushing through the house handling the chores that I have not yet gotten around to or that I do not want to worry about in exchange for bed time. It’s so easy to get steeped in the mundane of the daily routines that I often miss the moments to just chuckle with him and make the most of the smallest of moments which I know he will hold on tighest to as life goes on.