The living room looks like our bookshelves have had a violent case of the stomach flu.
There are not currently enough clean dishes in the kitchen to serve the next meal to my family…even when I figure out what to serve for said meal.
Oh, and if my sweetie and I plan on going to bed anytime tonight, I’m going to have to start putting away the laundry that is currently hanging out on our bed.
But as I walk by my son’s bedroom, I seem him crouched on the floor, working at the puzzle that we have been enjoying together for the past week. It feels like a hundred things are pulling at my attention, presenting their urgent requests, but I pause at the door, then walk into his room and crouch down beside him, scanning the unclaimed pieces for the next fit. He looks up at me and smiles. I smile back.
And as we both start scanning puzzle pieces again, I think: life doesn’t get any better than this.
Meghan’s been teething for weeks. Her usual sleep routine has been disrupted by fussiness and frequent nursing. Even when she’s nursing, wrapped in my arm, she is still often fighting the pain and discomfort…kicking against my stomach, pressing her face close and then flinging her head back. She hurts, and even nursing doesn’t completely help.
But then in the wee hours of the morning when my brain is heavy with exhaustion and her body can fight no longer, she settles into a peaceful sleep. Her mouth still mimics the sucking motion as her lips brush barely against my skin. She is cocooned against me, safely held in the curve on my arm that so perfectly fits her small frame. Her round cheeks beg to be kissed and as I softly stroke the top of her head, I think: this is as good as life gets.
I walk into the kitchen, sleep-deprived, still debating whether the cup of coffee or my still-warm bed is going to win preference when I glance at the white-board on the wall. “every bodey rocks” is scrawled across the board with hearts and circles and squiggly lines. I can’t help smiling. It’s the work of my middle child. My artsy encourager. And even though I’m exhausted and not yet wanting to face another day, I know,
This is as good as it gets.