Right Now

This is real life. I sit here in the deepening twilight watching the colors of the sunset stain the eastern sky. I can see a baseball in the garden...a plastic bed sheet dancing in the breeze. We should just put a billboard in the yard: "Yes, we have children. Yes, they have accidents. Yes, their mother is forgetful." Because I hung that sheet on the line no less than three days ago and promptly forgot about it. The wind picked up and blew it into my line of sight today.

In January when the walls began to shrink in on me, and things felt too cluttered, I moved the "reading couch" in the school room to a different wall so that I could see out the window. From this vantage point I can almost forget we live in town. As I sat here this afternoon I saw my first robin of the year! I'm so glad I moved this old couch. 

Even better than the view from the window: the baby girl that I honestly never thought I'd have.

Addie decided to take a late nap while cradled in the crook of my arm. I love these quiet Sundays when I can stop tidying up, stop grading, stop fixing, and stop cleaning for a few hours. It's in these moments that I realize how fast time is passing, how quickly things are changing. All too soon this all will end.

Yesterday I realized my first baby's feet have grown bigger than mine. Did I know this day was coming as I searched for tiny little shoes to fit his chubby toddler feet so many years ago? I seemed to take so much for granted then. My big boy is nearly as tall as me...and I cannot remember the last time he sat in my lap for a story.

As I read to Ian today (fittingly, "Love You Forever") I desperately wanted to freeze time so he could always sit on my lap to hear a story. That he would always be the violently affectionate little boy he is. That Liam would always hold my hand through the rosary and give me sudden, unexpected hugs throughout the day. That Gavin would always be here to try to lift people's spirits and add an air of excitement to every mundane thing we do. That I could listen to Addie always saying "Gong gong gong gong" and "Mamamama" in the soft little way she does. That I could always feel the incredible joy that swells in my heart when she plays with my hands as I feed her, or lays her head on my shoulder when she's tired, or when one of my boys plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

But things were never intended to stay as they are. During the hectic days of this season of my life I sometimes look forward to the last of certain things...all the noise, stuff never being in the right place, always mysterious sticky spots on tables and chairs. Paradoxically, the terrifying reality is that there will be a last time for everything, and I'm sure I will miss those little annoying things some day. There will be a last story read. A last bottle fed. A last bath given and a last meal enjoyed while we're all living here under the same roof. A last good night hug...a last plastic bed sheet and a last forgotten baseball in the garden. So for right now I'm going to soak up these blissful moments and read as many stories as we can fit in. We're going to play games and try to be patient with each other, and thank God for the time He's given us together.