6:00 am – The alarm sounds
Prying my crusted eyes open, I blearily gaze around the room. Dark. Snores of my congested infant drone on, a nighttime melody. The monitor crinkles, my toddler stirs, slumbers again. Heavy feet hold me to the bed a moment more before I drag my weary limbs up and out.
I’m scooping grounds, pouring water, starting. Sip.
Sudsy hands scrub milk caked dishes. A faucet’s gurgle is interrupted by a needy babe. “Mommy.” Drying digits I attend to the request. I lift up my drowsy dear. “Bottle?” “No.” A thumb presses to the urine soaked pad. Dirty. Change. Not needing the beverage, I set her down. She stands, sobs. Exasperated I sigh, “Use your words. What is the issue? I need to complete this morning’s errands.”
7:00 am. 15 minutes until we have to leave in order for the card to be clocked on time.
Choking back tears, futile effort though it was, she signs.
*Sorry* A fist rubbed against her chest.
Salted streams fill my eyes. She simply wanted this moment of embrace. I was rushing. She was asking for my attention, the attention often forfeited by a working mom. I break. Halt. In my sorrow, I explain that I’m the one who should be sorry, not her desire for my affection. Oh my sweet love, you are so precious.
So what if I’m late! I’ll stand here barefoot. I’m not promised tomorrow and these exchanges are far more valuable than a check. Yes, there is stewardship and responsibility to uphold, but let my sleeves soak up those sniffles first. I’ll spend just a little while holding him and them before I or they are gone.
The time quickly approaches when the flames will be snuffed out.
Until then, I’ll hold you dears and value the treasures I’ve been entrusted to, with, and/or for.