So I cheated a little and started writing about this a week early to post for Perfect Moment Monday on the last Monday of the month (because it was in my head, and who knows what will be there in a week?). And then I left the draft hanging till now, but here it is anyway.
Also it’s more like five perfect moments because a) I have trouble narrowing down and b) I ended up writing this over six weeks. So it goes.
–Theresa lost her little finger-puppet bunny (she calls it “brown bunny,” to distinguish, I suppose, from “pink bunny,” her lovey that Swedish Hospital gave her) on our run one morning. As usual, she wanted to take 102 toys with her (okay, four), and I nixed the plastic bowl. The three stuffed animals, I figured, would tuck into the sides of the jogging stroller, and I would of course notice if one fell out.
I noticed pink bunny falling out. And then shook out the blanket that covered her legs and realized that brown bunny was gone.
We turned around. Retraced our steps for 6+ blocks (back to the halfway mark of my loop) until we discovered brown bunny sitting on the hood of someone’s car. Because some kind stranger noticed him lying in the gravel by the sidewalk and put him up high so whoever lost him could see him.
I love kind people. People who notice missing toys and sit them high so the child can find them again. People who pick up trash from the park and throw it away. People who return strangers’ wallets, or whatever fell out of their pockets as they walk.
–After reading this post about All I Have to Do Today–and experiencing brief anxiety that even on my “stay-at-home mom days,” sometimes I still need a break from my kids (today involving a long shower)–I chose not to grade essays, or fold laundry, or anything else, and instead I sat at the kitchen table with my kids.
Jamie stacked blocks (and knocked them over). Audrey and Theresa played a game in which Theresa was a baby and Audrey ran back and forth to the living room to get blankets to tuck her in. Jamie used the blocks as “stamps” and gave me stamps everywhere, including my belly button. It was ordinary. It was fun. It was presence, which is always a gift.
–On Wednesday, I was having snack with the girls, and Audrey turned to me after a moment of silence and said, “Don’t go to work.” I told her it was my day off, and that I got to spend all day with her. “Why shouldn’t I go to work?” I asked her. “Because I love you,” she said.
–Theresa, while we were reading: “Mommy, stop. I need to tell a story.” Me: “What do you want to tell?” TK (referring to her stuffed dog): “This is Riley and I’m holding his head to keep it steady, and this is his tail, and he’s in my lap, and you can pet him. You can pet Lowly Worm.” (I guess she’s tired of us telling her to stop interrupting our stories with all of her questions and detail-noticing etc.)
–The other day, on heading up to nap, Jamie sprinted into the kitchen to hurtle himself into my arms, saying, “I love you, Mama, I love you.”