I started this morning off with a tweet:
this said after over a month of no early mornings, no classes, no kiddies…and ten days beach vacation, AND a new schedule that gives 30 extra minutes of sleep. That’s right. and then my first world tweet was followed by this:
and so was my next morning read. A blog post from one of my best friends as she mourns the all too soon death of her cousin as she faces “that abrupt moment when you switch from planning a wedding to planning a funeral.”
Suddenly (though it should never be suddenly), I faced that moment that says “Get over you. Life is too short.”
So like I do in my dramatic way (which let’s face it-these words are in more than one post), I kick off the covers… I face my day that awaits red stars (those are the misbehaving ones). The whining, yes on only day two back. I face brushing out tangles and pulling back into piggies. I face the words, “‘Cole, you stay at school with me?”
and Lord knows- that will be the hardest thing I have to face until I have kids of my own. Oh wait #thankfulthattheyletmecallthemmyown.
Those moments when I get to be loved. Those moments when it’s less about me, more about them, more for Him. They’re the moments when I stop doing the selfish things that feel good, the moments where I lose sight of what I don’t have, what I want, and cling to the things that have always been right before me.
Last night, Justin told me I cry on a daily basis. In my head, I responded saying “that’s why you love me though, because this sensitive heart of mine gives.”
So today in the me mood that switched from selfish to selfless, I texted to say, “Fyi- I’m gonna cry like a bad ass after I drop Ethan off at preschool.”
Because when you see this:
My life becomes a little more precious, a lot more cherished.
The bike falls where “I ‘urt my ‘eners” (aka “I hurt my tenders..”) are cried through tears that say “hold me longer, hold me tighter.” So I do.
Those moments, make these mornings harder though.
I see my morning snuggler board a school bus for her kindergarten day. I hear my little man’s whines and have more patience through the second grade tempers. I put a cookie monster back pack on my baby buddy- and I fight the tears that beg for slow motion where I can enjoy his goofy.
but then I realize, this is what it’s all about. It’s about these gifts. It’s about these lives. It’s about putting aside the petty, hanging onto the bond.
and that’s just what nanny loving is.
“Cole, you stay my school ‘ith me?”
He grips my hand tighter. He fights back nervous tears with his bravery. He runs into his class room. And then he looks at me. Now I’m fighting the tears…again. It was the montage hug. A fluttering of memories through his kicking and screaming, through him mistaking green for purple. Him pooping on the floor. Him… just… making my heart happy. And that hug was a choke hold hug.. one that lasted a while longer than others, but still not quite long enough. It was the hug that said, “Oh baby buddy, I’m ever so proud of you.” and “‘Cole, thank you for being mine.”
and there he went.