Lasts

Friday something really wonderful happened.

A small thing.

You would have missed it if you had been watching me.

You wouldn't have written it down if you had seen it.

So unremarkable.

And so wonderful.

I took the girls swimming in the intense heat of the Kansas afternoon. We splashed and jumped and paddled (how do mother's keep their hair dry? No really - how?!)

And we went home exhausted.

I think I'm drooling but I'm too tired to do anything about it exhausted.

Glazed eyes.

Dehydrated.

A little pink from the sun.

And the Dancer dropped off to sleep sitting in her chair.

I eyed her carefully and decided to give it a try...

I scooped her up and resettled on the couch, her hot, heavy body snuggled up to mine.

And it worked!

She nestled in and slept in my arms- rosy cheeks, sweaty head and all.

I flipped on the t.v. and laid there in mother heaven.

All was quiet.

I had a perfect excuse not to get up and clean or cook or call anyone.

I was doing my job as I breathed in and out and tried to see if our beating hearts would match rhythms.

She is almost four.

Every time she sleeps in my arms- really sleeps- and I can kiss her head that smells like cut grass and sunshine, I count it a wonderful blessing.

I am all too aware that every time (and they are few and far between now) could be the absolute last time I rock my own sleeping baby.

For all the thousands of reasons I love to see my children grow up, this is one reason I am sad they cannot stay small.