Yesterday morning came too fast and too early for my liking. As usual, I was running late, having never quite adjusted to the life of a working mother. I may never fully adjust though I’ve made due. But I’m up and showered and dressed and my make up is done and my hair is dried and bags are ready and coffee is creamed and breakfast milk is ready but Mr. Baby is still sleeping.
Take a breath.
Wake Mr. Baby up to find a huge pee spot that I don’t have time to properly clean up. Dump half a bottle of rubbing alcohol into the puddle accidentally because my hands and arms are full of Mr. Baby’s sleeping body. Throw a towel on it, press, keep moving.
Grind my teeth.
I carry him, at arms length, to the changing table. We giggle while I dodge kicks and flailing hands to get him cleaned up and dressed and then we are ready to leave. But not before he makes me chase him room to room to get his shoes on. (To be a carefree, always laughing, smiley almost 2 year old I would give both my arms.) I finally get him caught and THEN we are ready. After I tie his shoes twice. My little tester, foreshadowing the future.
We FINALLY get out the door. I am 30 minutes late at this point and there is a meeting at my office that I need to be at. I still have to go to the paint store after dropping off Mr. Baby at daycare and then go to the bank to make the work deposit I couldn’t make last night because it was closed and I lost track of time (who me?).
Mr. Baby dawdles. We get to the car. I throw my bottomless purse/trashbag in the passenger seat and go back to get him. He is a few feet away and he is standing still and looking up at the sky, eyes wide. I envy him for a moment and then notice a worm making her way across the sidewalk. Coming home from the grocery store I laugh to myself. An old inside joke. I point the worm out to him and he is instantly amazed.
Together we stood there, crouched, hands on our knees just watching this silly worm slink along the concrete. She eventually made it to the grass and Mr. Baby looks up at me, sheer wonder in his eyes and face. 10 minutes have gone by while we watched this worm and I couldn’t care less about meetings and paint and deposits and traffic while he is smiling at me like that.
“Whoa, Mommy” he says, his chubby fingers extended toward the wriggling body as it disappears among the blades. He looks up again, steps toward me and hugs my legs.
There is always something to stop and take notice of, no matter how rushed and stressed and irritable we are. There are always things out there to wonder about and be amazed by, no matter how small or insignificant they seem to be.
Thank you everyday for this reminder, my sweet boy.