This afternoon, I've been looking through old pictures. Morg just woke up from his nap and came out with a smile on his face. I cut a slice of hot bread for him and he took one bite and said 'Mmmm. Licious.'
He always gives me his sweetest. His best. Lately, I haven't been giving mine. I've been the impatient, mean-talking mother I swore I'd never be. I've been too worried about how many times I've picked up the same dang toys, or how many dishes are left undone in the sink. I've been worried about how bad my back hurts, or wishing for nap, then bedtime. What I really wish is that I could remind myself none of that really even matters. Life is 'licious'. Hot bread, warm butter, plastic trucks, awesome tantrums, and a l l the inbetween.
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“The biggest mistake I made as a parent is the one that most of us make. … I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of my three children sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less”. Anna Quindlin
Oh, how I miss these days!
February 2009
*Sweet talk on Motherhood by M. Russell Ballard
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