To my children

After a busy evening of getting ready for Sunday--the cleaning, food prep, bathing, etc.--we finally got you all into bed. You girls were quick to fall asleep after a long day playing in the sun at the beach, with baby boy not far behind. A few sweet minutes of nursing and snuggling and the house was finally quiet.

I came downstairs, feeling a little weary, but knowing that a clean kitchen is much more welcoming in the morning than a pile of crusty dishes. Slowly, I moved all the dirty dishes to the sink, checked on the baking granola, and organized all the garden produce of the day.

After everything else was done, I went into the dining room to wipe down the table and finish up for the evening. As I scrubbed away leftover maple syrup from breakfast and noodles and sauce from dinner, I was overcome by my joy of being your mother. I was literally almost in tears as I pictured your sweet faces--and then pictured them again a few years from now--and it was just too much for me. As hard as these days can be with you three (my three, three and under), I never want to leave these sweet, innocent days. I love the moments where you want to play with my hair and read stories together and tell me I am the most beautiful mama in the whole world. I look forward to your smiles and kisses and cuddles every day. I adore hearing you sing made-up songs, creating new games to play in the yard, and helping daddy in the garden.

My mind flashed through all the meals we will eat together at that table, all the phases we will survive together, and then how one day you will have your own table to wipe down when your little ones have gone to bed.

Oh, how I pray to savor these days, to find clarity amidst the chaos.

  Thanks for choosing crazy old me to be your mommy.

I love you.