Shabby Chic

I had purposed for days now to write a post tonight.  Wednesday evenings are generally when I have time to do that sort of thing, as the husband is in class until pretty late.  There are so many things about which I'd like to write, but honestly - I am so dadgum tired (just showed my Alabama roots).  The source of my exhaustion is my beautiful toddler.  And I can think of a thousand things to say to paint a picture of all that she does that so drain my body, my mind, my will at the end of the day; but honestly, why would I want to drain you, too, kind reader?  And as many of you are parents already, no words are needed, I'm sure.  So, instead, I will dedicate what little ability to form coherent thought that I have to recording (more for myself than anyone) a few of the things she did today that warmed my heart.

First thing in the morning, I get her from her room and bring her into bed with me.  Luke is usually still asleep for at least a short while, so we get this sliver of alone time, snuggling under my down comforter, where she waits patiently as I continue to drift in and out of sleep, smelling the perfume of her blonde, curly head.  When she's finally had enough of waiting, she turns around, puts both her hands on my face and starts talking to me.  "Mama sleepy?  I so sorry, Mama!  Mama, see my bear (pulls Birthday Bear out from under the covers)?  Mama, guess what?  I so proud of you!" And on and on, occasionally leaning in with her lips puckered so I can proffer my cheek to receive this precious benediction, and then the declarations continue.  And who could keep their eyes closed and ignore such a sweet morning song?

While I go through my start-of-day chores, she "entertains" her brother as they play on the floor near my feet.  Half the time, I'm having to make sure she doesn't smother him with something, but the other half, she is taking her most favored toys and not only showing them to him, but sharing them.  Not balking when his tiny fists snatch the items from her before she's ready, but watching him with a smile on her face.  As difficult as it's been for her since he's become more of a peer and less of a giant lump of immobile (nonthreatening) baby, I truly believe she enjoys this new phase where she can share with him all her treasures - and snacks.

As lunch was winding down, she and I were finished but Luke was still in the high chair.  I got up to get a cleaning rag and when I came back, Leila had climbed into my chair and was dutifully helping Luke finish his lunch.  She would lean towards him with a bean, to which he opened his mouth like a little bird, and she dropped it neatly in.  A few seconds later, she said, "Would you like more?  Say please!" and then she would give him another.  This went on for several minutes ("More?  Say please!"), as I watched from the kitchen.  These are the moments that got me through the chaos of bringing Luke home and navigating Leila's torrential emotions: the hope that before long he would be able to interact with  her and she would know the joy of finding a friend in her sibling.  And here we are, at the start of that gratifying journey.

  

Other things from today include many kisses, randomly breaking into song and giggling shyly when she realizes I'm listening, trying to help with the laundry, comforting Luke when he cries, sporadically breaking away from her playtime to wrap her arms around my neck and lay her head on my shoulder ... These are the kinds of pearls I value, the treasure I want to keep hidden away, never to be lost.  On nights, like tonight, when I'm feeling particularly shabby, I can take them out, adorn my heart with them, and adulate in the extreme honor of being her mother.