I want to make a memory of today, of something I just witnessed. I want to make such a vivid memory that I can recount every detail to my girls when they’re adults. My mind is always so foggy, my memory so disjointed and unclear (thyroid symptom?) I fear I won’t remember.
Today’s been pretty rough day. It began abruptly at a 5:45 bang on our bedroom door, followed by a 5:46 climb into bed over the top of me. Yup. Sophia. She needs some boundaries. (By the way, I was up past midnight last night; so, I did not welcome this sweet face so early.)
As I groggily came downstairs at about 6:30, I was met with the unmet tasks of yesterday–horribly crusty kitchen with a sink full of dishes, 2 new shrubs to plant out in our front flowerbed, the next week’s grocery shopping, 2 loads of unfolded laundry, and a houseful of tornado-toddlerdom, i.e. every kind of toy everywhere. (I’ve been taking some time off from housework. Still recovering from a recent stomach illness. More on that later.)
This might not be so bad if I had woken up a bit cheerier… or let’s say, if everyone else had, too…
So, Sophia went to bed after 9 last night, and she woke up before 6. She is CRANKY today. She is every bit of 3 years old today. The way she is talking to me sends my head spinning, my eyes rolling, and body shaken. I tell her to do something, and she yells at me, “NO! I DON’T WANT TO! THIS IS MY KIND OF LIFE AND I CAN DO WHAT I WANT!!!!!” You can be sure that this kind of behavior is met with time-outs and apology sessions…
How’s Abby today? She’s getting new words every day. Just a few days ago she finally started verbalizing “no” and doing it very well. Now, she yells (in a very sweet 18-month old voice) “NO!” after I tell her to do something. Then she rolls all over the floor laughing.
WHAT the WHAT?!
Where was I? Was there a scene I wanted to savor? It wasn’t them helping dig the holes for the shrubs… or them helping me get new soil mixed in… or even watering them… though, it sure made me think a lot about how God is working on my patience…
About 20 time-outs later sometime after cleaning up lunch, I hear, “Abby’s hugging me, Mommy! Abby’s hugging me!” I look around the corner, and both my girls are on the ground. Abby has tackled Sophia from the front, arm tight around her neck. She sitting on her knees, hugging her heart out, laying her head on Sophia’s shoulder. Sophia’s smiling ear to ear, trying to be patient enough to hug her back, her legs wrapped around behind her. There is only sheer joy. ”Abby’s hugging me, Mommy! Abby’s hugging me!”
They’re becoming best friends–following each other around everywhere, wanting to be just like each other. They’re playing together better all the time and also doing their share of fighting and wrestling. It’s the most beautiful thing a mother can see. I want to savor it. I want to pause and make this memory of this moment last forever. I want to tell my girls when they’re in the late 20s about this day. I have a feeling if I remember it, I will tell it through choked back tears.