A drooling baby walking toward me with outstretched arms, giggling with each wobbly step.
Little girls painting outside, the sun shining down on them and their creation, a muddy cloud of colors.
Baking jam-filled muffins in the kitchen. Squeezing lemons and limes to make homemade lemonade and then sipping it together, lips puckering at its tartness.
Praying a decade of the rosary for a friend who lost her baby and for my husband, their daddy.
Writing and illustrating a “book” called The Mystery by Madeline Wicker in which a big giant terrifies a town.
A dance party in the living room. Blond hair and silky nightgowns swirling. Baby laughing. Mom sweating. Calories burning. No need to exercise tonight.
Stories by candlelight. The flame flickering. A child’s heartbeat fluttering against my arm as she leans into me. One small hand on my leg. A head on my shoulder. The smell of coconut shampoo.
A nest of blankets and stuffed animals. Soft sighs on either side of me. Little girls cuddled close and sleeping. I slip away. I write letters to my daughters in the journals I keep for them. I want them to remember this day. I want to remember this day.
Now it’s time for me to join them, to find sleep. But not before giving thanks for a good day, a rich day, an ordinary, extraordinary day where I let my children set the agenda. I should let them fill our days more often. They’re much better planners than I am, probably because they don’t plan at all.
Oh, Kate- this is beautiful! This isn't the first time your writing has brought tears to my eyes! I love this!
Wow. Simply…wow. WOW.
I hope to have a day like this again soon! Can't wait to see you tomorrow!
Oh you describe it all so exquisitely. I need to let go and do it more often too. I love the idea of journals for your daughters. My blog is sort of that. But not as personalized.
You know how to live!
-Phyllis
Melanie, I don't write in my girls' journals as much as I'd like. It all started when I was pregnant with my first and began a journal during pregnancy to remember the special time. I'd always ask my own mom questions about things like when she first felt us flutter in her womb, and she couldn't remember. I wanted to have a record of these details. Once my children are born, I jot down silly things they say, a few anecdotes here and there, and occasional love letters to my children. Another reason I decided to do this is because my mom's mom and a good friend of mine's mother both died when they were young. God willing that won't happen, but if it does, my children will have something to take with them.
I also write personal birthday letters each year. I encourage moms to give it a shot. Don't give up just because your pages are blank for a few months. Anything you do write will be appreciated one day. I hope to give these journals to my children when they become mothers (or fathers) – physically or spiritually.
Ahh your family seems so fun and sweet-wish we lived close enough to be friends "in real life" too!
I love the idea of journaling, especially funny little things they do and say. I'll have to think about starting that.