These are the days
These are days youll remember.
When may is rushing over you with desire to be part of the miracles you see in every hour.
Youll know its true that you are blessed and lucky.
Its true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.
You know, sometimes I wonder if in our quest for perfection if we miss something. I know I’m not the only Mom who yearns for the perfect day (and if I had to lay it out, I couldn’t even really detail it. It’s something I constantly strive for and yet have no idea what it actually entails. Is that crazy?). I know I’m also not the only Mom who, at the end of some days, feels almost overwhelmed by the amount of perceived failure. I snapped. I yelled. I resisted and deflected and avoided. My patience was short, the wait for dinner was long.
This morning, Littlebit snuggled into my arms under my fluffy warm duvet. She chriped “Mama!” at me as she rubbed her head on my arm and chin and chest, happy to find me there. The Princess didn’t tally this morning as she got ready for school. I didn’t have to yell at her to hurry, insist she stop watching t.v. or gripe as she made just one more trip upstairs.
Littlebit played with her doll house while I watched and sipped coffee. She even let me keep on Oprah instead of insisting on Dora or Blue’s Clues or Hi-5 or the Wiggles. The strange noise from the kitchen WASN’T Littlebit cracking eggs again, but looking for an English muffin (which I happily provided). She crawled into my lap, dug her head under my chin so tightly I could hear her breathe and chew. We played the hand game and she squealed with laughter. I rubbed the baby soft skin on her forearm and buried my noise in her hair (Littlebit still has baby fine hair)
From my chair, I spy a partially eaten turquoise blue peep on the floor. The Princess’s nightgown lays strewn on the furniture and I think Littlebit might be jumping on her trampoline on top of what’s left of her English muffin (which means vacuuming). Somehow, though, all the little traces of life with our two girls seems not annoying, today, but beautiful. The bright purple satin and the half threadbare teddy bear on the couch is just a sweet reminder of the Princess’s morning and tucking them under my arm to deposit on her crazy, fuzzy bedspread doesn’t seem like a chore.
And I wonder if I’m not questing too hard for the perfect day instead of letting the perfection in every day unfold in front of me? If you push too hard, does perfection flee? Does it run screaming? Does it dislike neurotic people who are constantly searching for it while they remove crumbs from along the baseboards and gobs of pet hair from under the furniture? I knew it was elusive, but I wonder if the negative energy I exude trying to find it, isn’t driving it off? Is part of finding balance the acceptance of things being unbalanced?
Part of being all zen has allowed me to 1) get through my entire to-do list with no issues, stress or guilt. (I’m actually spending time working on this to share with other messies. So far, it’s working great, but I want to give it a few more weeks to tweek it) and 2) I found time to sew without guilt. See?
Another summer shortie peejay set for Littlebit with MOAR (shout out to LOL Cats) Fairies and….
….Baby Bee’s coming home outfit. <3
I know it’s blue and she’s a she, but it just spoke to me that this was the fabric I was supposed to use. It’s soft and delicate like my babies have been and like she will be. Ottobre, of course. I’ll probably round it out with a bonnet and some booties
In other perfect things, Littlebit is developing a love for the Princess’s teddy…
(this is the Princess and N-N, the bear, in 2002)
He’s from FAO and I’m wondering if this guy is close enough to pass for Littlebit. Minus the sweater, of course. N-N only rarely wears sweaters, prefers nudity and at times chooses a jaunty bow tie. He has been a boy and then a girl and then a boy. His tag has been mistaken for Poop. He’s a special bear. <3