Wrinkly laundry and tears

This is an old picture, but it most accurately portrays the moment that just happened.

There I was fully clothed in my 'mommy atire': an XXL pair of ugly greenish scrubs, a gray sweater, no make-up, and a fabulous up-do. I was finally folding the very unfortunate, very wrinkly laundry that had been in their clean bins for several days. It was nap time for Maddux so he was in his 'magic swing' [deemed such because of its ability to always put the baby to sleep]. Enya was playing in the background to help sleep come on faster. However, the magic seemd to be temporarily unavailable because Maddux was still crying due to his sleep not coming when he and mommy wanted it to. I continued to shove his binky in his mouth. He would suck on it for a few minutes and then spit it out. I would shove it back in and the pattern continued. I continued to tell him if he would just keep his binky in he would fall asleep. So I sat there looking at him making a mental note of all the things I had to do when he fell asleep with showering be at the top of the list.

I continued to stare at him until the thought came that he will be four months old tomorrow. Four months. I couldn't believe how fast the time had gone, and yet it seems so much longer. I still don't know how the feeling is possible, but it is. Finally I picked him up. I turned off the light and started walking back and forth with my little one. The room was illumintated only by the light from the bathroom. Enya contined to play. The noise from the swing set the ryhthimic pace at which we walked. Wrinkly laundry was still sprawled on the floor. Maddux had his cheek on my shoulder, but his eyes were wide open. His desire to explore always conquers his ability to sleep when I am holding him. His little bum was supported by my left arm and my right hand played with his toes. He had his left hand up on my neck. I kept kissing his head and smelling his hair, praying I would never forget this moment, but knowing I would.

Then I realized this is what life is all about. It's not about folding the laundry, planning a perfect lesson, or trying to look perfect. It's not about doing the dishes, making dinners, or feeling like you have to volunteer for everything. It's about taking the time to play with those little toes that curl around your finger.

Maddux is now in his magic swing. Enya is still playing, and I have tears on my face. I sit with laundry on all sides of me, but now I have moment that will be with me forever.

Soak in the moment...