Spanish Guitar

Yesterday had been just another day, and grouchiness had crept up on me with the daily bumps of convincing my children they really DO want to load the dishwasher, pick up the living room, and clean up after dinner. It had finally been accomplished, and I realized we were actually ahead of schedule. If I tried to tuck people in this early they would have justifiable cause to complain. So, I sat down at the computer and looked up http://nieniedialogues.blogspot.com/ , one of my favorite blogs to follow. I read Stephanie's entry for the day, about her father, the strawberry stained smiles of her children, fields of fireflies. Mostly, her assurance that Heavenly Father knows her, and that there's a REASON she's living. I think one of those reasons is to uplift ME, and to point out the precious in my everyday. I scooped up Sage, in her fleece footy pajamas, fed her her sippy cup as she relaxed in my arms. The other children had turned off the lights in the kitchen and they laughed in the next room. I strolled with Sage in the dark with Spanish guitar playing on the stereo and the side of her forehead against my lips, her baby hair tickling my nose. I just drank it all in. "The joy of motherhood comes in moments," I've heard someone say. This was one of those moments. The house will be spotless someday. Until then, I'll occasionally turn off the lights, and stroll to the Spanish guitar.

Thank you neinei.