Thursday, June 12, 2014

At the end of the day

At the end of the day
Lord, I pray,
For a life that's good

There was a brief moment this morning when she sat still in my lap

I closed my eyes and felt how smooth her skin and hair were against my cheek

I smelled her toddler smell, a mix of peanut butter and lavender scented baby wash with a little bit of something that is just her

I watched her chubby hand absentmindedly stroke my arm

I felt her sink in just a little bit deeper, and I knew she felt safe

Even with her own opinions getting stronger every day, in that moment it was not at all hard to imagine that she was once part of me

Her breath matching mine, there are still times when she feels like an extension of my body

Today we will have 450 tantrums

We will argue over what shoes she will wear, what clothes she will wear, and the seemingly never-ending issue of the potty

I will wait on her to move painfully slowly to the car when we have fine minutes to be somewhere

I am sure, at some point, I will count the minutes until this little dictator falls asleep

But when the day is done, this is the moment I will remember

At the end of the day,
Lord, I pray,
For a life that's good

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